


i'll be in the middle

by hamilton_taylorklaine



Category: Bollywood Movies, Student of the Year (2012)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bollywood, Double Penetration, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Gen, I Don't Even Know, I'm Sorry, Like I'm really sorry, M/M, Multi, No Plot/Plotless, Polyamory, Polygamy, Post-Canon, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, What Have I Done, What am I doing, Why Did I Write This?, i'm very white so this is all in english, too many tags sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 06:18:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15943502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamilton_taylorklaine/pseuds/hamilton_taylorklaine
Summary: "I love her. And I love you. And we'll make this work."Snippets of Rohan's life with Abhi and Shanaya.





	i'll be in the middle

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Keep On Loving You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11472363) by [Varia (Janie94)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janie94/pseuds/Varia). 



> "The real solution for the three of them is polyamory." - my sister in response to Ishq Wala Love
> 
> Directly inspired by/a follow up to Keep on Loving You, one of the two (yes, two) Student of the Year fanfics on this website. Basically what you need to know from that is that Rohan was in love with Abhi for most of the events of the movie (because duh) and at the end when they reconcile, Rohan and Abhi finally admit their feelings for each other and Shanaya is happy because everyone loves everyone and they end up in some kind of triad/throuple situation and YAY everyone is happy.
> 
> This movie is so fun and silly and dramatic and ridiculous and magical and just plain GOOD and Rohan and Abhi are Not Straight so I needed to Do Something About It and get this out of my system and YOU need to watch this movie ASAP (but if you haven't already seen it, then why are you here?)
> 
> I may not have time for a Hamilton fic or any normal, American fandoms that I should be involving myself in as a white American woman, but I have time for this. Just go with it.
> 
> Title taken from "In the Middle" by dodie. Warnings for graphic depictions of sex. Enjoy!

The Dean is dead and Rohan is happy. He divulged everything he had been holding tight inside himself for the last ten years to Shanaya and she wasn't upset or freaked out, she was happy, and Abhi heard it all and still loves him, is in love with him, and Rohan loves Abhi as much as a human heart can love another person, and they kiss, and it's hard and fierce and perfect, and Shanaya is still happy, and Rohan loves Shanaya as much as a human heart can love another person, and the three of them come together in some sort of conglomeration of love and happiness and bruised and broken hearts beginning to heal, and the Dean has died and left them all on unsteady feet, and Rohan can't see the next step in front of him, but he is happy. This is an undeniable truth.

The trio is the last to leave the hospital. They are numb as they say their goodbyes to their old friends, and then the three walk out together. Shanaya holds Abhi's arm and rests her head on his shoulder. Rohan's hands are buried deep in the pockets of his coat and has strategically placed himself a few steps to the side of the pair. They walk in a silent line. Rohan watches the movement of his steps, the cracks in the sidewalk as they pass under his feet. He refuses to speak, to break the spell of this magical thing that happened inside, to acknowledge their inevitable separation. But they stop when they reach Abhi's car, and the moment is here.

They face each other. Abhi and Shanaya have their backs to their vehicle, and Rohan stands a few feet in front of them. Shanaya's grip on Abhi has loosened, and she now gently holds his left hand in both of hers. There is sadness in their eyes as they look at Rohan, neither speaking still. Rohan's whole body feels heavy, filled with dread, his hands now limp at his sides. He looks between the two of them, and they both watch him, waiting. Rohan can't discern what they're waiting for. So he morphs his expression into a polite smile that takes all of his willpower and feels almost physically painful.

"Well, you both have my phone number now," he says with what he hopes is a casual shrug. Abhi nods dumbly. "We'll see each other again soon," Rohan continues. Abhi nods again, eyes firm on Rohan, but they're glassy, as if his mind is somewhere else. Rohan takes one last look at him, at Shanaya, then gives a small wave and turns away.

He's barely even turned around before someone sucks in a sharp breath behind him and grabs his hand. Rohan doesn't have to think twice to recognize the soft pads of fingertips as Shanaya's. He turns back to them sharply, and Shanaya is staring up at him with something akin to fear, but also uncertainty, a plea, a question.

"Come home with us."

Her voice breaks around the words, and Rohan's eyebrows lift at the gravity of it all. He can feel this gravity physically pulling him towards them, aching to be a part of their home. She invited him home, and it's been such a short amount of time, but he feels that connection with them, that sense of being home.

He looks at Abhi. The glassy look is gone from his eyes, and when Abhi nods again, Rohan knows that Abhi is here, that he means it, that single movement, and that single movement means everything. Abhi is still holding Shanaya's other hand as he watches Rohan's face for a reaction. But there is something close to love in Abhi's eyes. Shanaya's too. He takes in the sight for one extra moment, burying it in his brain, tucking it into a special place in his heart for a rainy day.

Rohan cracks a smile, more genuine now. He takes one step closer to Abhi and Shanaya, and both of their faces instantly light up. Abhi guides Rohan closer, one hand on the small of his back, and they all pile into the car.

The drive back to their house is much less awkward. Shanaya has gotten really good at relieving that kind of tension and takes charge of much of the conversation. It doesn't take long before they are joking and laughing just like they used to in school. Rohan is in the back seat, and Shanaya from her passenger seat, keeps turning around to him, reaching back for his hand, as if she can't believe her good fortune either. Abhi drives, so he can't do much besides meet Rohan's eyes in the rearview mirror and smile. It's more than enough.

Their house is not humongous, but it's fairly large considering only two people live there. The driveway is long, and the outside is painted a creamy white. Many of the walls inside are painted a similar color, and several small art pieces and photographs hang all around. A staircase off to the side curves up and around, and it may be the grandest Rohan has ever seen in someone else's home. The kitchen has wooden cabinets, tile floors, and gray marble countertops. One room over, a small chandelier hovers over a dining room table, surrounded by deep maroon walls. And in the living room, there is fuzzy tan carpeting and a plush, chocolate brown couch that looks lived in and incredibly inviting.

The three of them sit on this couch for a long time. The flat screen television stays off, and they talk instead. Abhi and Shanaya make it clear that, as twisted as it may sound, they both want Rohan to stay, be with them, maybe even live with them, who knows. They keep laughing and shaking their heads, saying how the whole thing is crazy, and maybe they are crazy, and they don't know, they don't know, but they will figure it out.

But Rohan wants all of it. They don't put labels on anything, they don't even have the words for what this would even be, but it's obvious that it's romance, a romance between all three of them. And Rohan wants it. There's something deep in his gut that says this is what he's wanted since they all met. And maybe that's not a hundred percent true. What is true is that he's always wanted to be loved, at first just by someone, anyone, and then by Shanaya, and then by Abhi as well. And now he has just that, and Rohan can barely hold back his enthusiasm as he agrees to all of it, and they will have to work out the logistics and legalities of mail and documents and getting all of Rohan's things to this house, and Rohan doesn't know how it will work either, but he is more than willing to figure it out if he can do it with them.

They pile together in the middle of the couch, Rohan sandwiched in the middle. His head is tucked under Abhi's chin, and Shanaya's head lays on Rohan's chest. Rohan plays with Shanaya's hair, the tips of her fingers, and Abhi, every so often, presses feather light kisses to the top of Rohan's head. They bask in this contentment for what simultaneously feels like years and also minutes when they all start to get hungry. So they eat dinner. Patter around. Pretend their lives haven't just upended. When it's time for them to go to sleep, Abhi lends Rohan a T-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. He changes in the bathroom, then stops Shanaya when she passes him in the hallway. She is wearing a silk nightgown that stops above her knees, and it takes all of Rohan's strength not to stare her up and down.

"Where's the guest room?" he asks. Shanaya looks at him like he's gone insane before she bursts out laughing. It's loud and a little nasal, and she bends over clutching her stomach as it gets harder for her to breathe. Rohan's shoulders shake a little, the feeling contagious even if he's not sure what's so funny.

"Guest room..." Shanaya tuts when she finally catches her breath, shaking her head. "After all that," she grabs his hand and pulls him down the hall towards the master bedroom. "you think you're staying in the guest room?"

It does seem a little silly when it's said out loud like that. But Rohan suddenly doesn't want to impose himself on this life that they've created, even if they are welcoming him in with open arms. The guest room seemed safe.

"Unless you'd be more comfortable," Shanaya adds quickly, her smile immediately dropping. During their conversation on the couch, both Abhi and Shanaya had stressed Rohan's comfort above everything else, that he could back out if he wanted to. Rohan didn't want to. And now that the prospect of spending the night with both of them in the same bed is on the table, he's all in again.

"No," he says quickly. "This is fine."

"Fine?" Shanaya quips back. "Fine means nothing. Fine is what you say when it's not fine." She rambles on like this, panicked, her voice getting higher in pitch as she keeps going about how Rohan shouldn't feel like he's intruding, but doesn't have to if he's not comfortable, and he tries to interject but Shanaya will not stop. An idea pops into Rohan's head, something that would completely work if this was a movie, but in the real world could push dangerous territory, and Rohan doesn't consider himself that kind of man anymore, but he can't find another way out, so he braces himself for impact and grabs Shanaya's face and kisses her.

She makes a surprised noise against his mouth and freezes. It dawns on Rohan that this is the first time they've kissed since college, before they broke up. But she is still soft and sweet, her lips a little wet and tasting faintly of mint and champagne. He backs off slightly, loosening his hold on her jaw, easing the pressure of his lips against hers. Her arms are trapped between their bodies, and she twists them so her hands can rest on his chest, slide down the cotton material so she can hold onto his waist. And finally, _finally_ , she starts to kiss him back. Hesitantly, but he can feel the movement of her lips against his and it makes his toes curl. Slowly, Rohan pulls them apart, keeping his forehead against hers.

"So where's your room, then?" he whispers, lips curving up into a smile. Shanaya's shoulders relax and she smiles back, hands snaking back up to Rohan's chest and lightly scrunching the material of his shirt. She rests her forehead on his chest, in between her hands, and sighs. And then she is back up, one arm around his waist, one of his around her shoulders, and she leads him to her room.

Abhi is already there, in a tank top and striped pants similar to what he lent Rohan. The lights are dim and he's getting himself comfortable under the blankets, and he looks so warm and soft that Rohan practically melts on the spot.

"I'm in the middle!" Shanaya suddenly shouts, unwinding herself from Rohan and running full speed to the bed and burying herself under the blankets. Abhi laughs as he takes her into his arms, kissing her temple, and she clings to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, giggling. Abhi glances over at Rohan, where he still stands off to the side watching them, feeling intrusive and awkward. But Abhi cocks his head and grins, inviting him in, and Rohan smiles again and climbs in.

When the heat of another body enters their space, Shanaya scoots somewhat out of Abhi's arms and closer to Rohan. He snakes an arm high around her waist, and she leans back into him, tucking her head into his neck and kissing his jaw. Abhi pulls them all in closer together, settling a hand against Rohan's hip.

Rohan takes time to memorize this moment, this sense of peace, and thank every god and force of the universe that led him here. The lights have been turned off now, and all of his emotions feel stronger in the dark. He buries his nose into Shanaya's hair, breathing her in. He runs his fingers along the silky material of Shanaya's nightgown, up and down her arm, across Abhi's arm that is slung over them. The other two breathe deeply, and Rohan finally begins to believe that they are just as happy as him.

"Thank you," he says, quiet, but piercing in the silence of the night. He doesn't move out of fear of breaking this fragile thing that they've created among themselves. But he can feel Shanaya let out a sigh against him and bury herself further into his body. Abhi moves his arm out from under Rohan's light touch and gently places a hand against his cheek, tilting his head up to meet his eyes.

"There is nothing to thank us for," he says, firm, but loving and just as quiet.

 _Yes, there is_ , Rohan wants to say. For welcoming him into their home with the most open arms. For going with the flow when Rohan completely upended the simple life they had created. For not judging him for feelings he can't control. For not holding grudges against him. For loving him in spite of, perhaps because of everything. For loving him in the same confusing, explosive way that he loves them. For ever loving him at all. For still loving him.

He doesn't say any of it. The heat and the dark is starting to make him sleepy. So he kisses the top of Shanaya's head. Takes Abhi's hand from where it still rest against his cheek and kisses the back of it. Hopes this says everything he feels. Abhi smiles, lays his hand back down against Rohan's shoulder, sliding down his arm and pulling him closer. Yes, Rohan thinks, it does.

It's the deepest, most peaceful sleep Rohan has had in a long time.

* * *

Abhi is the only one of the three of them that has a job with normal, consistent hours. Rohan's schedule depends on appearances, recording sessions, and tour dates. Shanaya doesn't work. So a lot of the time, Rohan is alone with Shanaya in their big house. It's one of these days, barely two weeks into Rohan living there, that Shanaya corners him after breakfast.

"I want to have sex with you."

Of course Rohan is taken aback. Yes, his animal instinct wants to grab her and have her right there on the kitchen counter they are currently leaning against. And yes, they have history, pages and pages of it. But even amidst the expansive volumes, they never had sex when they were together, and now she's married to someone else, and their situation is so unorthodox and Rohan loves her and she loves him and everything is good, but Rohan still thinks someone is being betrayed if they sleep together.

So the first thing Rohan says in response to Shanaya's proposition is "Is Abhi okay with that?"

Shanaya's lips twitch up as she laughs once, more of a quick breath released through her nose. She nods. "He wants to have sex with you too. We talked about it. But you guys can work that out on your own time." She dismisses the notion with a wave of her hand, as if Rohan's mind had not just done three more somersaults in the ten seconds it took Shanaya to relay this information. "Right now..." She flips her hair over her shoulder and tilts her head, looking at Rohan through her eyelashes. "You have me."

Her lips are parted. All of her hair is piled on one side over her other shoulder. Rohan observes her for a moment, takes her in, then pushes himself away from the counter, takes a single step forward, and brushes her hair back. "You're slightly crazy, you know," he says gently, eyes flicking down for a moment to her lips.

She chuckles, tilting her eyes down and back up in such a signature Shanaya way. "You love me anyway."

"I do." And he tilts her head up and kisses her.

The facade falls away and she melts against him. Her arms come around his neck and his fingers thread through her hair that cascades down her back in gentle waves. They are slow, letting the passion build gradually, until his arms are tight around her waist and they are holding onto each other as if letting go will cost them their lives. Rohan bends slightly and lifts her clean off the ground. She yelps in surprise, secures her legs around his waist and laughs against his mouth, and the rest of the world around him is gone.

He carries her upstairs and lays her down on the bed. She scoots up towards the pillows and he climbs on top of her, sealing his mouth over hers. Again, they are slow. It is the morning after all, and they have hours upon hours to themselves to explore and learn these things they never did when they were young. Their clothes fall away with calm ease. Rohan is proud of keeping up his physique into adulthood, and Shanaya must be impressed as well with the way her hands refuse to leave his skin. But Shanaya is all silky smooth and soft curves, and her hands are gentle and tender, and her legs are miles as they are still tight around him, and her breasts may be small, but her dark hair is fanned around her face and she is looking up at Rohan with half-lidded eyes and a dazed, blissful smile, as if to say there is nowhere else in the world she would rather be than right here, and to Rohan, she is the most beautiful woman in the world.

He kisses his way down her body, sucking marks into her neck, worships each breast, licks across her stomach. Her breathing gets faster and harsher as Rohan continues downward. He kisses the sharp jut of her hips, the smooth expanse of her thighs, and she whines low in the back of her throat. He's doing this on purpose. Saving the best for last, as they say.

He inches his way closer, painfully, achingly slow, to where she is shiny and pink and radiating heat. When Shanaya grabs the back of his head and tries to push him down towards her, he ducks out of it, laughing. He glances up at her, and she's rolling her eyes, toying with the ends of her hair between her fingers. He glares at her. She meets his gaze, and the communication between them is silent.

_What are you so testy about?_

_Watch it, or this isn't happening._

_Bite me._

_I'll do you one better._

Rohan bends his head down and licks one long, heavy stripe up her pussy, and Shanaya cries out in a mix of surprise and ecstasy. He grins up at her. She glares at him. When she pushes his head back down again, this time, he obeys.

Rohan takes his time with it, tracing patterns inside her lips with his tongue. Shanaya's grip on his hair is iron, holding him in place, and for once, Rohan doesn't care about how he will look when it's over. His focus is Shanaya, and the cascading waves of pleasure he is sending through every nerve in her body. The room is filled with her sounds, her heavy breathing, her steady moans, the occasional chant of Rohan's name. Experimentally, he flicks his tongue once against her clit, and the cry she releases is high and sharp, piercing his ears. He pulls back and looks up at her. He is met with the long curve of her neck and can't see her face. Shanaya grabs for him and tries to regain herself.

"Again."

He does what he is told.

Rohan interchanges his motions, heavy licks, patterns, massaging her clit with his tongue. Shanaya dissolves into jelly above him. Rohan can practically see her face in his mind, head thrown back, eyes screwed shut. Her moans escalate in pitch and volume the closer she gets to orgasm. And Rohan can _feel_ it, the way she is trying to hold herself back from rocking against his mouth. She stiffens and cries out once more, cut off sharply, and Rohan knows she is on the brink. So he pulls back, out from under her grasp, and kneels above her.

Shanaya collapses, her arms falling limp at her sides. Her legs, which had been bent at the knee and held up towards her torso, straighten out as they heavily thump on the bed around Rohan. She whines, loud, angry. She opens her eyes and glares daggers at Rohan. The rage only lasts a moment as a mutual understanding passes between them, an acknowledgment of what they both want, the ultimate goal, and the tension instantly evaporates. They hold each other's gaze as Shanaya catches her breath. She smiles. He returns it, lays on top of her, matching his body up with hers, and kisses her deeply. When he pulls back, she's making a face, nose scrunched up and lips pursed.

"Doesn't taste good."

"Honey, that's what _you_ taste like," he retorts, teasing. She fights the smile that's twitching at the edges of her mouth and sticks her tongue out at him.

"Blergh." They laugh, and he quiets her with another kiss. She accepts it, and their teeth clack together when the smiles refuse to leave their faces. As their tongues dance together, the room begins to heat up again. Rohan is hard and throbbing against her leg. Shanaya procures a condom from nowhere and shoves it into Rohan's hand. They are forced to separate so he can put it on. When he's secure, he returns to her, chest to chest, lines himself up with her entrance, meets her eye to eye. He brushes her hair back from her face, smooths it down.

"I love you." It's soft, as if no one else in the world deserves to hear it. As if he doesn't say it now, he will never get the chance to say it again. She smiles softly up at him, as if no one else in the world deserves to see it. Her hands move from running up and down his back to cupping his face, thumbs brushing over his cheeks.

"I love you too." As if she relishes in the fact that she can say it a thousand more times. Rohan feels like he could burst. He kisses her again, more forceful but with as much love as he can put into it. He slides into her, slowly, easy, and Shanaya hisses, sighing. After a beat, she nods, and Rohan pushes further. His eyes refuse to leave her face, checking for any signs of discomfort or pain, but her eyes stay closed, serene, and eventually Rohan is all the way in. Her hand strokes his bicep, sliding up to scratch at the back of his neck. He twitches, and she chuckles. She knows he loves that. Slowly, he slides back and then in, and she gasps, a moan falling from her lips.

"Oh, Ro," she says, and this is his cue to repeat the motion, a fraction faster than before. She cries out again, a fraction louder. And the rhythm continues, matching her pace and wishes. "Again." Again. "Harder." Harder. "More." He is nothing but a slave to Shanaya's desires. Jelly melts into a puddle, and she has no words, only cries of ecstasy and breathless, harsh yells of Rohan's name. He sucks at her neck, his angle consequently shifting. And just like before, she tightens, her head falling back, arching up, crying out louder than she has all day.

"Yes! Right there!"

Maybe there are a few words left in her.

Rohan keeps the same position, hitting the same spot over and over and over, low grunts coming from his own mouth. Shanaya's nails dig into the skin of his back, sure to leave marks. He grabs her hair, pulling, and she moans again, long, guttural, her legs hiking back up around his waist, pulling him that much closer. The universe is spinning around them, overwhelming sensations pounding them from all angles, skin, heat, soft, hard, wet, pulsing, yet he is somehow grounded to this moment, this body underneath him, this sensation and experience. Shanaya's hands again fist into his hair, and it edges him closer. She sucks in a sudden breath, tightening around him, and she is on the edge and he is right there with her.

"I..." She is trembling, her breathing shallow. "Ro..."

"It's okay." It comes out gravely. He kisses all over her face, the curve of her neck and shoulder. "It's okay."

"Don't stop," she breathes against his skin. He doesn't. With a long, high moan, she falls over the edge, and he's right there with her.

The intensity washes over them, crashes like a wave on shore. Her sounds are high and seem to echo off the walls--his are lower, deeper, hard against the bone of her shoulder, breathless chants of her name. Her hips gyrate against his as they ride it out, gradually slowing down. Eventually, Rohan begins to soften, and Shanaya gets oversensitive. She lightly touches her fingers to his chest, stopping him. She smiles, a little blank, a little delirious. Rohan lets out a breathless laugh as he pulls out and ties off the condom, throwing it into the wastebasket at the side of the bed. He rolls off her, onto his side next to her. He watches her, her gently closed eyes, the steady rise and fall of her chest as her breath evens out, the same blissful, contented smile settled on her face.

"So..." he asks carefully. She makes the "okay" sign with her hand. His shoulders shake in laughter as her arm falls back on the bed. He stares blankly at that hand as he taps patterns against the blanket underneath him. There's something he needs to know, he just doesn't know how to say it. Knowing them, it'll get twisted. But he can't be at peace until he knows.

"Versus Abhi?"

It's so quiet it doesn't even sound like his own voice. When he looks back up at Shanaya, her smile is gone. After a beat, her eyes fly open.

"Versus nothing," she says firmly, sitting up slightly and pulling the blanket over her. "You men and your fragile egos and your constant competition. The two most important people in my life, and there has to be a winner. Bloody stupid, shallow..." The blanket is pulled up over her chest and she stares hard at the ceiling. Rohan is crestfallen, rolling over onto his back and laying his hands over his stomach. He blew it with her. Again. The number of times he'd blown it with her when they were in college felt astronomical, and all of those memories were hitting him at once. He mumbles a sorry, but she only seems to close in on herself even more. The silence feels endless. At some point, Shanaya's shoulders relax as she releases a heavy breath.

"Different," she says. She turns her head to face Rohan. As if pulled by gravity, he turns as well. "Abhi has no idea how to eat pussy," she adds with a smirk, and Rohan folds in on himself in laughter. The ease, the comfort is back. He will not lose her.

They shift so Shanaya can throw the blanket over Rohan as well, as if she's tucking him in. She pillows her head on his chest, gently turning his head towards her, locking his eyes.

"I'm not going to compare the two men I love most in the world," she says gently. "And you shouldn't either. Don't do this to yourself, Ro. Not everything is a competition. I love you _both_." She pauses. "I hope that's enough."

"It is," he responds immediately. His arm comes around her shoulders and he presses a firm kiss to her forehead, a small one to her nose, a gentle one to her lips. She smiles faintly, tucking her head under his chin. He closes his eyes, relishing in it.

They rest. They shower. They talk about sex openly and candidly, what they like, what they don't, what they want to try. She loved the oral stuff. He loved doing it. She dares him to try to make her come again with just his mouth. He succeeds.

When Abhi comes home that night, Shanaya has, shockingly, not fixed her hair. It is still beautiful, but it puffs out around her shoulders, and a few strands stick out in random directions. As they eat dinner, Abhi keeps glancing between them, as if there is some kind of force the other two are not seeing.

"Did you..." he treads. Shanaya can't keep the smile off her face, and her bright red cheeks are answer enough. Rohan chuckles and meets Abhi's eyes. He holds up two fingers.

"Twice."

"Nice," Abhi responds, high-fiving him. Shanaya drops her fork and hides her face in her hands

* * *

 It's a few days later that Abhi confronts Rohan.

"So when you and Shanaya..." He brings it up casually, in the kitchen like Shanaya had. But he won't name it, even though both men know what he means. Abhi picks at his fingernails. "Did she mention me at all? When she brought it up?"

Rohan looks at him. "Not really." He shrugs one shoulder. "She mentioned that you wanted to, too. With me." He pauses, flashing back to how he nearly fucked up with Shanaya. "But that was it," he finishes quickly, turning away.

"Ahh," Abhi says simply, and nothing else. The silence is too long, so Rohan turns to him again. Abhi is staring at his feet, gripping the countertop behind him.

"What is it?" Rohan asks, concerned, his whole body now facing Abhi. He lets go of the countertop but still stares at the ground, folding his hands in front of him, wringing them. His response is directed at the floor.

"Would you still want to?"

Rohan furrows his eyebrows in confusion. Abhimanyu, this self-assured, calm, confident man was doubting him, the two of them?

"Of course," Rohan responded in disbelief, lightly placing his hand on Abhi's cheek and turning the man's head towards him. There's almost no pressure, no force, but Abhi's head moves and he meets Rohan's eyes. "Why do you think I wouldn't?"

Abhi smiles and shakes his head, as if now he feels silly for worrying. "I don't know. We're both just so used to having sex with girls, I guess, and I've never had sex with a man, and I don't think you have either, and I was just worried that, especially after Shanaya, you might think it's gross or weird, or not into it anymore for some reason." He laughs it off and shrugs. "And I'd have no idea what I'm doing."

Rohan laughs along with him, running his thumb back and forth across his cheek. He guides his head down, kissing him softly on the mouth. He almost forgot he could do that now.

"I love you," Rohan says softly. He almost forgot he could say that too. "We'll figure it out together."

"Figuring it out" means spending several days doing extensive research online, reading some articles, but mostly watching videos that at first make them uncomfortable, but eventually turn the air in the room thick and make the two men more than a little handsy with each other.

They don't want to plan ahead too much and set on a specific date, but they agree that they'd be more comfortable having the house to themselves. But with Shanaya a housewife, there isn't much time to experiment with. And trips to the grocery store are cutting it too close.

That is, until one Saturday evening when Shanaya has unexpectedly locked herself in the bathroom for almost an hour.

"Shanaya?!" Abhi nearly yells, banging on the closed door. It's thrown open.

"What?!" she shouts in his face. Her hair is clipped high on her head, and her face is painted with makeup and some sporadic colors on her eyes. She's wearing a pale peach dress that sparkles on the chest and doesn't even come close to reaching her knees. Abhi's eyes graze over her body. Rohan is now standing at the edge of the hall, distressed by the commotion.

"What are you doing?" Abhi asks slowly.

"Getting ready." Shanaya says with a shake of her head, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Which it is. But they had no plans. Abhi squints at her.

"For what?"

"Shruti's party..." Shanaya says, again as if Abhi is dumb for not remembering that Shruti was having a party. To be fair, he didn't know. Neither did Rohan.

"Shruti's having a party?" Abhi asks. Shanaya nods once.

"Girls' night. You're not invited. I told you this."

"No you didn't!" Rohan calls from the end of the hallway. Abhi and Shanaya turn to him. Rohan is practically vibrating with what on the surface could seem like annoyance, but inside, it's anticipation. Hope. If Shanaya is going out tonight...

Shanaya shrugs, dismissive. "Guess I forgot," she responds and slams the bathroom door in Abhi's face. Abhi jumps back from the loud noise but turns towards where Rohan is standing, shoulders finally relaxing, a heavy look in his eyes. Abhi nods once. Rohan smiles, closed lipped. An acknowledgment of what's to come.

Shanaya gives a half-hearted apology for not telling them about the party before she leaves. They brush it off--all three had already eaten dinner, they had planned for a night in anyway. Shanaya's eyebrows move up and down suggestively at that, and Rohan shoves her shoulder, lightly jabs her in the sides, nearly pushing her out the door. She laughs, bids them goodbye but refusing to kiss either of them. "So my makeup's not ruined." They roll their eyes. "Use protection," she then advises, and then she is gone. They turn towards each other, alone. Rohan laughs and shakes his head. Abhi casually pulls a condom out of his pocket. The echo of the slammed door rings even louder in Rohan's ears. They are alone.

Abhi tucks the condom back into his pocket and, without hesitation, sweeps Rohan into his arms and kisses him.

Rohan feels like a heroine from the movies. One of Abhi's hands is firmly splayed across his back, near his shoulder blades, the other is further down, against the curve of his lower back. Rohan is bent back slightly, enough for Abhi to hold him firmly against his chest, enough that Rohan could stumble and fall if Abhi lets go, but trusts him to hold him steady. Who is he kidding, he'd trust Abhi with his life.

As Rohan slides his arms around Abhi's shoulders, Abhi pulls out of his embrace. Rohan makes a small noise of confusion, his face crestfallen. But Abhi simply smiles at him, takes both of his hands, and leads him towards the staircase. Rohan follows, light as air.

It's just the two of them, alone in this big, empty house, but Rohan kicks the door closed behind him anyway. And then he's back in Abhi's arms, and Abhi holds him close and firm, hands gripping his shoulders, fingers digging into his back, Rohan's arms tight around Abhi's neck. He runs his hands firm across Abhi's shoulders, down his chest, and slowly, taking his time, unbuttons Abhi's shirt, one button at a time. Abhi's grip on him loosens, a gentle hold, delicate fingers running across the skin of Rohan's stomach, just underneath the hem of his T-shirt. Rohan shivers in delight, pushes Abhi's shirt off his shoulders, and Abhi removes his hands so it can slide down off his body and onto the floor. When they return, they slip fully under Rohan's shirt and move slow, but with purpose. Rohan's hands slide across the smooth skin of Abhi's back, feeling, learning, memorizing. He only separates from Abhi for a moment to lift his arms and let Abhi pull the shirt over his head and toss it to the side. Then Rohan is immediately back against him, kissing him deep, his tongue sliding past Abhi's lips, his fingers curling into Abhi's hair.

It's all so different. Delicious and intoxicating, but different. Everywhere Shanaya was soft skin, Abhi is taught, hard muscle. Everywhere Shanaya was smooth curves, Abhi is harsh lines--his chest and abdomen, the jut of his hips and pelvic bone, the cut of his jaw. His fingers are knobby and calloused as they trace over the outline of Rohan's face, the definition of his abs, gently around each of his nipples. Abhi dips his head down to kiss across Rohan's neck, and the hairs of his stubble scratch against Rohan's clean shaven skin. It's as if Rohan can feel the nerve endings themselves reacting to the sensation, and Rohan's toes curl against the carpet as he lets out a moan, head back to give Abhi more room.

They somehow stumble their way to the bed, still holding onto each other. Abhi crawls on top of Rohan, and Rohan scoots back until he can lay his head down on the pillows. This was the arrangement--with Abhi on top--that the two had agreed on from the very beginning. Rohan wanted to feel this sense of submission, this surrounding of warmth and love and care. It was natural that he was the protector when it came to Shanaya. But with Abhi, he felt like he was the one who was protected. It took the edge off of everything Rohan had to worry about in his life. And Abhi liked being the protector. It made him feel needed, valued. Wanted. And right now, Rohan wanted him more than anything in the world.

He lets his hands slide down the curve of Abhi's back to his ass. In response, Abhi holds Rohan's hips, tucking his fingers under the waistband of his pants. Rohan lifts his hips, pressing closer to Abhi's body. He settles down as Abhi undoes the button and zipper of his jeans, lifting up again so Abhi can push them down and off. Rohan is quick to do the same to Abhi, unbuckling him and stripping him of the material, sliding his hands into Abhi's underwear and gripping his rear end again, massaging. Abhi moans against Rohan's mouth, hands back on his hips, hard against his skin, under his briefs, pushing them down. Rohan lifts his hips up again, and the cloth is removed, and he is completely naked.

Abhi pulls back, pushing himself up and sitting back on his heels. He stares at Rohan, eyes slowly covering every inch of his body. Rohan watches his eyes move, takes note of how nothing else moves except for the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. Rohan's own chest moves quicker as he tries to slow his breath and his racing heart, but it's then he realizes that this is the first time they'll see each other completely naked. Abhi is memorizing him, worshiping him with his eyes. When they land on Rohan's cock, Rohan swears he sees Abhi's fingers twitch towards it. Rohan has never felt more exposed, but at the same time, he's never felt more seen. More cherished, more adored.

His hands had been forced out of Abhi's underwear when he had sat up. But now they inch their way back, his pointer finger hesitantly tucking back under the waistband, his eyes to the bulge in the center. Through his peripheral vision, he can see Abhi's eyes dart back up to his face, and as if by magnetic force, Rohan's eyes drag up to meet his. Abhi's expression doesn't change--it's the same wonder and disbelief he had as his eyes covered all of Rohan. Now, he rises to his knees. Rohan gently tugs down with his single finger, eyes back down to watch the movement, and Abhi's hands come to help him, pushing the clothing down. It's a little awkward, but then they are both bare.

And now it becomes Rohan's turn to stare in awe at this Adonis in front of him. He can practically feel his jaw going slack, sitting up somewhat to get closer. There is a sharp V cut into his abdomen. There is a trail of dark hair leading from his belly button down to his cock. Rohan's chest tightens, he might have stopped breathing. He wants to touch, to kiss, to lick, not just there, but everywhere. And there's a sharp swoop in his gut as he's hit with the realization that he can. Abhi is all his. He can.

He sees Abhi's shoulders relax as Rohan's own fingers twitch towards the man, somewhere, anywhere. He watches in amazement as Abhi moves towards him, slowly swinging one leg over Rohan's hips. He settles, gets comfortable, one hand resting on Rohan's waist, the other lightly cupping the back of his head. This hand slides through Rohan's hair, feather light down the edge of his jaw, fingers gentle on the tip of his chin as they tilt Rohan's head up to meet his eyes once again. And there is so much love in there that Rohan wants to cry. His own hands have settled somewhere on Abhi's skin, his hips, his back, he doesn't know. He just knows that Abhi is real and solid and warm and here, and now he is smiling and Rohan can't help but smile back, and Abhi pulls him in and kisses him so gently, so lovingly that Rohan can't help but kiss back just as sweet, and his hands are moving to Rohan's lower back, carefully laying him down again, and Rohan is helpless to fall with him.

They explore for a long time, nails scratching down skin, lips and tongues on chests and thighs. But the throbbing pulse in each of their cocks is getting harder to ignore as they bumps against arms and legs. So Abhi's lips trail back up Rohan's body, across his stomach, his chest, his collarbone, his shoulders, his neck, and then press gently back against Rohan's lips. Rohan holds his face, keeping them together, but Abhi pulls away from it, and the look on his face makes it seem like it takes all of his mental energy to separate himself from Rohan. Abhi leans far over the edge of the bed and grabs for his pants, digging through the pockets and pulling out the condom he had downstairs as well as a bottle of lube. He climbs back up, tosses the objects to the side for now, then braces his hands on either side of Rohan's head and smiles down at him, as if returning to him was a cold drink on a hot day.

Rohan pushes himself up on his elbows and kisses him again. Slowly, Abhi lowers them back down. He reaches behind Rohan and grabs one of the smaller pillows they keep on the bed for decoration. He breaks the kiss, but Rohan keeps his eyes closed for a few seconds longer. He lifts his hips up and Abhi slides the pillow underneath, something they had learned about in their research. Abhi takes the bottle of lube and squeezes some into his hand. He massages it around his fingers, leaning back down again and bracing himself up on one elbow. Rohan watches the movement of his fingers for a moment before their eyes meet.

"You have to tell me if you're not comfortable," Abhi stresses. "If you're in any pain at all. Okay?"

"Of course."

"I'm serious, Ro." Abhi sighs. "I refuse to see you hurt again. I refuse to hurt you again."

He sounds heartbroken. He can't be heartbroken right now. Rohan grabs the back of his head and holds his gaze. "I promise," he whispers, and kisses him softly. It's quick, and he lets him go, settling back and lifting his knees up. Before he can overthink, he wiggles his eyebrows and grins. "Come on, hero, I'm waiting."

Abhi laughs and kisses him fully. He drags a single finger down his torso, hovering above his skin so he doesn't get the jelly everywhere, but close enough that Rohan can feel the cold radiating from the movement. In comparison to the heat radiating from everywhere else on Abhi's body, it makes him shiver. The press of the single finger to his hole makes him tense. He breaks the kiss and forces himself to relax. His eyes close and he lets his head fall back. Abhi's fingers lightly stroke his hair as Rohan lets his legs open a little wider. It's enough for Abhi to slowly press his finger in.

The sensation is unlike anything Rohan has ever felt before, unlike he'd imagined this would feel like. He doesn't have words for it. But it's so overwhelming and new that Abhi has barely pushed past the first knuckle when Rohan hisses and tenses up again. Abhi freezes, and although Rohan still has his eyes closed, he can feel Abhi's eyes on him, watching him for any signs of pain. Where Abhi's other arm is braced next to Rohan's head, he reaches back up and holds onto Abhi's bicep, lightly, running is thumb back and forth.

"I'm okay," he says around a breath. "It's just...a lot."

"But you're okay."

"I'm okay," he says again, opening his eyes. "You can keep going."

So Abhi does.

It evolves into a more silent communication. Rohan's grip on Abhi's arm would become tight if it was too much and loosen when he was ready for more, fingers tracing lazily along the skin as confirmation. Abhi is visibly torn between watching him and watching the movement of his own hand as his finger moves inside of Rohan. He's all the way in, pulls back out and then in again. His finger curls slightly, unintentionally, but it sends shocks through Rohan's body and he arches a little into it, sucking in another breath, eyes tightening closed again. Abhi freezes again, but Rohan's lips part and he lets out a low moan, and he hears Abhi sigh above him, can practically see the satisfied smile on his face, that _he's_ the one doing this, _he's_ the one making Rohan squirm and cry out.

Abhi repeats the motion, giving an experimental twirl of his finger that sends Rohan reeling.

"Abhiii," he whines, loving every second of it. Quickly, Abhi adds a second finger, and Rohan hisses again at the adjustment, but presses into it, groaning. Abhi builds up a rhythm, sliding back and forth inside of him, making 'come hither' motions against his walls, relishing in Rohan's expressions, his moans, all in pure ecstasy. He adds a third finger, and Rohan is almost gone from this earth, the pleasure he feels surrounding him, engulfing him, amazed that Abhi is doing this with his fingers alone. When Abhi slows his movements down, it feels sudden. This could have been happening for minutes or years, and Rohan wouldn't have known the difference.

"How do you feel?" Abhi whispers, his breath washing over Rohan's face. Rohan slowly opens his eyes up into Abhi's.

"I'm ready."

Abhi releases a breath and removes his fingers. Rohan whines in the back of his throat at the emptiness he now feels, and Abhi is quick to put on the condom and slick more gel over the latex. And then he's back, chest to chest, nose to nose, lining himself up with Rohan's now stretched hole. He's just pressed on the outside, enough for Rohan to feel him there but not enough to penetrate. Rohan relaxes.

"Again," Abhi says, the firmness and surprisingly deep sound of his voice cutting through the thick air. "If you're ever in any pain, you have to tell me, okay?"

"Okay."

Abhi is breathing hard, something Rohan wasn't expecting. He's not looking at Rohan either--his eyes are staring blankly at Rohan's collarbone, and his mind seems somewhere else. It's making Rohan nervous. So he takes Abhi's face in his hands and tilts his head back up towards him, looking deep into his eyes, focusing him on the here and now. Them.

"I love you," Rohan says. Soft, as if no one else in the world deserves to hear it. As if he doesn't say it now, he will never get the chance to say it again. Abhi smiles down at him, as if no one else in the world deserves to see it. And he is back, the man Rohan loves, the man Rohan doesn't deserve. Abhi is centimeters from Rohan's face.

"I love you too." As if he relishes in the fact that he can say it a thousand more times. Rohan smiles brightly and surges up to kiss him once more. Abhi returns it with fervor and, carefully, pushes into him.

It feels different than his fingers. Abhi is thick, pulsating in a way that the twitching of his fingers couldn't prepare Rohan for. And the latex scratches as if it shouldn't belong there, and it makes Rohan tense again.

"Hang on," he says quickly. Abhi stops immediately and watches him with worried eyes.

"I'm okay," Rohan adds quickly with a smile. "It's...a lot." There's really no other way to describe it. They laugh quietly, and Abhi lightly rests his forehead against Rohan's. "Just give me a minute to get used to it." Abhi doesn't say anything. His hand comes back into Rohan's hair, barely there, and they breathe together. Abhi can feel Rohan relaxing around him but doesn't move until the small "okay" passes Rohan's lips.

Just like before, this stop-and-go pattern continues, albeit with more verbal communication. But they listen and move slow and careful. As Abhi pushes all the way in, the plastic texture of the latex is gone from Rohan's mind. Now he just feels...full. And in the strangest sense of the word, whole.

There's really nowhere else for Abhi to move, so he waits for a reaction from the man underneath him. Rohan moves his hips and pushes slightly against Abhi's pelvis, uncomfortable with the stagnancy. So Abhi pulls out, still achingly slow, and just enough that Rohan can feel it when he slides back in.

And it's heaven.

Rohan lets his head fall back, a low noise coming from deep inside him. He can feel Abhi smile against him, his breath tickling Rohan's bare skin. Abhi presses his lips to Rohan's jaw, his neck, his shoulder, and moves again. Another moan emits from Rohan, higher, sharper. So Abhi does it again, and this pattern continues, a steady pace, building and building. The room rapidly heats up, and Rohan can feel a thin layer of sweat cover his body. He holds onto Abhi as if his life depends on it, fingers digging into his shoulder blades, rolling his hips in time with Abhi's. His legs somehow make their way around Abhi's torso, arms coming tight around his neck, holding him as close as he can. Abhi holds Rohan the best he can while still keeping himself upright and steady. His fingers knot into Rohan's hair and he bites Rohan's shoulder, shifting his angle slightly, and Rohan screams.

"D-Do that again."

Rohan is still holding tight to Abhi, but he can feel his muscles, every cell in his body dissolving as Abhi hits that spot again and Rohan cries out. He's gone--all he sees is stars behind his closed eyelids, all he hears is Abhi's heavy breathing and the sound of skin against skin, all he feels is the heat of Abhi's body, Abhi's breath still warm on his shoulder, and this sweet spot and the shockwaves it sends to each and every nerve ending, over and over and over again. He can feel the words disappear from his lips, from his brain, just these animal sounds and Abhi, Abhi, _Abhi_. It builds to a peak, his balls tightening, everything coming to a head, and it's almost painful, the anticipation of release.

"I...Ab--..." He can't let out the words for how he feels, everything is so much. Abhi shifts again, pushing himself up so he can look Rohan in the eye once again. Rohan can't imagine how wrecked he looks right now--he can feel pieces of his hair matted to his face with sweat, his eyes might even be a little bloodshot for all he knows. But Abhi is still looking at him with wonder and awe, and even beauty, and Rohan might cry, or he might explode, whichever comes first.

Without averting his gaze, Abhi wraps one hand around Rohan's cock, and that's it. The pressure is relieved just enough that Rohan has to arch up into it, throw his head back and cry out in ecstasy, it feels so good. It doesn't take more than a few strokes, a few pumps, before Rohan finally lets go in a mix of high whines and long groans and maybe something that sounds like Abhi's name. White shoots onto Abhi's stomach, and Abhi gasps in surprise, but it turns into the most pleasurable whine. He continues to work Rohan through his orgasm, his own hips stuttering and jerking in their movements his own orgasm overtakes his body. Rohan can feel Abhi twitch inside of him, and it eggs him on further, pulling Abhi back down and a smile curling on his lips.

They are empty and they are spent, and Abhi settles back down against Rohan, his face buried into his neck, both men breathless. They spend as long as they can basking in the haze of it, but Rohan gets uncomfortable as Abhi softens inside of him, and his smile turns into a grimace as he shifts his hips again. Abhi sits up with a groan and carefully slides out of Rohan, and Rohan whines in surprise at the emptiness he feels once again. Abhi chuckles as he ties off the condom and tosses it in the garbage. He flops back down onto his stomach and slides, albeit not very smoothly, under the covers, causing Rohan to laugh as well. Abhi nudges him gently, throwing the blanket over the other man as well and sidling up to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and tucking his chin against Rohan's shoulder.

And maybe it's the dried sweat, the sticky sheets, or the droplets of cum that are drying on both of their chests, but Rohan suddenly feels dirty. He blinks rapidly, trying to shake it off and not wanting to disturb Abhi as his breathing steadies. He doesn't want to feel this way, not after this amazing experience that bonded the two of them together for life. And he doesn't think he felt this dirt and guilt with Shanaya. So why now? He stays on his back, running his fingers lightly across Abhi's arm, trying to keep his eyes closed and block it out.

"You're thinking," Abhi says next to him. Rohan opens his eyes and turns his head to face him. Abhi is looking up at him with wide eyes, the same concern but the same love, and how does Rohan feel so disgusting when a man chooses to look at him like that? "What's on your mind?"

Rohan knows it will eat away at him if keeps it in, as much as releasing it into the world scares him. He laughs once, forcing himself to ease the tension somehow, and laces his fingers through Abhi's. "I feel like I'm your mistress."

This gets Abhi's attention. He pulls back a little and furrows his eyebrows. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Rohan sighs, the corners of his mouth falling. He lets go of Abhi's hand and turns his body to face Abhi fully. He refuses to meet Abhi's eyes, as much as he can feel them on him, instead choosing to focus on the dip in Abhi's collarbone and Abhi's arm still slung over his waist, fingers tracing absentmindedly over his lower back.

"You're married," Rohan says quietly. "And you just had sex with another man, for one, and someone who's not your wife. I just feel like...and maybe in the back of my mind, with Shanaya, I felt this way too...I feel like someone's going to get betrayed if I keep doing this with you two."

"Absolutely not," Abhi says immediately, firmly. His hand leaves Rohan's back and cups his face, tilting his face up. Rohan closes his eyes in guilt and almost shakes himself out of Abhi's hold, but it's too tender and soft for it not to feel like Abhi is holding a star, and the guilt creeps up Rohan's body again. "Ro, please look at me." Abhi adds, and he sounds so sad that Rohan opens his eyes into Abhi's, despite having a hard time holding back his own emotions.

"I don't know what we're doing. Completely. This life we've created and built you into, I don't have the words to explain to anyone what it is. But this thing that we're doing, we're doing it all three of us. Together. As equals. Shanaya wanted you, and she was able to have you. I want you, and I'm able to have you. This was what we had talked about before she approached you initially. That we both wanted to be with you in this kind of intimate way, and we could come back to each other and still be with you and love you, and no one gets betrayed or double-crossed or hurt at all. Shanaya loves you. She's in love with you and she has been since before I even knew you. But I love you too. I love you so much that it scares me sometimes. But I am in this, all of it, all of you, all of her, all of us, together. No betrayals, no backstabbing, no mistrust, no competition, and none of this feeling like you're the other one. It's not just only one now, it's the both of you. I love her. And I love you. And we'll make this work."

How does he do that, Rohan wonders. How does he speak so poetically and beautifully, and say everything Rohan needs to hear, wants to hear, and Rohan can feel in his gut, in the tips of his toes, that everything Abhi says is the absolute truth? Rohan can feel his eyes water, but he's not going to cry, he refuses to, he tells himself he won't. But he pulls Abhi flush against him, arms around his shoulders, and Abhi's come around Rohan's torso, holding him just as tight, and Rohan lets a single sob slip out, and a few drops fall onto Abhi's shoulder.

"I love you," he says softly, shaky, breathlessly. "I don't deserve you."

"Yes you do," Abhi says, as if he's stating an unquestionable fact. His fingers comb through Rohan's hair. "You deserve all the love in the world." And Rohan, in his gut, in the tips of his toes, believes him.

He lets go of Abhi and wipes at his face, and Abhi's thumbs are quick to come up and wipe at the tears himself. Rohan laughs wetly, shakes his head at all of it, and tucks himself under Abhi's chin, circling his arms around Abhi's waist.

"Sorry," he sniffles. "I didn't mean to bring the mood down."

"Stop doing that," Abhi responds, wrapping his arms around Rohan and carding his fingers through his hair. "You didn't. And I'm glad you told me all of that. Holding onto that resentment and fear wouldn't have been good for anyone in the long run. Now there's nothing in your way."

"In my way of what?" Rohan questions, pulling back just enough to look up at Abhi with a quirked eyebrow. Abhi shrugs one shoulder.

"Getting what you want. Getting your happiness."

Rohan smiles at this, his face softening. "You. And Shanaya. Both of you." Abhi chuckles softly, and Rohan curls himself around him again. "You're what makes me happy. You're what I want."

Abhi's fingers return to Rohan's hair. "You already have me. You already have the both of us."

Rohan lets the words sink under his skin. "I really love you."

Abhi kisses his forehead. "I really love you, too."

They must have dozed off after this, because the next thing they know, a bright light bursts into the dark room. Both men groan, startled, and sit up. The light feeds in from the hallway, from the open door, partially obscured by a figure.

"There you aaare!" A high, feminine voice shrills, the last word heavily drawn out. It's Shanaya, and from the way she stumbles into the room, both men have the sinking feeling that she's drunk.

"You weren't downstaaairs," she rambles on, coming into the room. "I didn't know where you werrre. I mean I gueeess itmakessensethatyouwereuphere." She's closer now, still uneasy on her heeled feet, black smudged all around her eyes like a racoon. She holds her arms out in front of her to balance herself, and a slow grin spreads on her face as she looks at the two men as she realizes what's happening. Everything private of theirs is still covered by the blankets, but their chests are exposed, and even her drunken state, Shanaya is still smart enough to realize what transpired while she was out.

"Did you two..." She points between them. Both men are still taken aback by her sudden arrival that they don't react. But Shanaya screams anyway, clapping and jumping up and down and landing unsteady on her heels and subsequently falling onto the floor. "I'M OKAY!" she screams and reaches up for the corner of the bed. Rohan starts to crawl forward to help her up, but she hoists herself up on her own and yells "NO" firmly in his face. "I GOT. IT." Each "t" sound is punctuated, and she struggles significantly, but she's up. She sits on the edge of the bed, at Rohan's feet, tosses her hair behind her and starts undoing the straps of her heels.

"Tell me about it tomorrow," she mumbles, barely audible now that she's hunched over. "I bet it was good. I bet it was hot." She continues mumbling like this, but Rohan turns red and sinks further down under the covers and tunes her out. She kicks her heels away from her and sighs in relief, falling backwards. Her arms fan out, hitting Rohan's legs, and her eyes are closed. She shifts a little, then arches her back and attempts to pull down the zipper on the back of her dress. She writhes and whines as she struggles, but Rohan is actually afraid to help her again. She collapses as she gives up, then grabs for the hem as she attempts to pull the dress over her head. That doesn't work either, and she stops, now a giant puff of peach fabric. Her chests rises and falls, but other than that, she doesn't move.

"Shanaya?" Rohan asks carefully. Nothing. He slowly leans over and removes the fabric from where it's covering her face. She looks serene. She makes a tiny little noise and shifts a little, but she is calm.

"I think she's asleep," Abhi says quietly from behind. Slowly, Rohan settles back against him.

"Is she okay?" he asks.

"She will be," Abhi responds, getting comfortable again. "Hungover and miserable for a while, but she does this all the time. She'll be fine."

Abhi is, of course, right. When they wake up in the morning, Shanaya is immovable. But when she does wake, she is sticky with dried sweat and perfume, lipstick all over her cheeks, and mascara crusted around her eyes to the point where she can barely open them. They clean her up, wipe her makeup off, give her some ibuprofen, and help her change into a T-shirt and sweatpants. But she is bedridden for most of the day.

There's a moment where she's alone with Rohan and she grabs his wrist, then winces.

"Don't make sudden movements like that, it'll hurt your head," he scolds her. And he knows she's rolling her eyes behind her closed lids, but she looks at him softly when she opens them back up.

"Did you two really..." She doesn't finish the question, but Rohan's immediate smile and blush is answer enough. He nods anyway.

She smiles. Raises her eyebrows up and down once. Clicks her tongue. Winks. Holds up her hands, blocking off a relatively large distance for what she's referencing. Rohan laughs in surprise. Shanaya laughs too. Winces again. Rohan kisses her forehead, her expression smooths out, and he leaves her be.

* * *

Abhi was also right about how liberating it was for Rohan to talk about how he was feeling. When Shanaya found out, she bursts into the room, as she has a tendency to do now, and hugs him close. "I love you. I love you. I love you just as much as I love him. I swear."

It lightens the load. But that doesn't mean new things don't start eating away at him.

Abhi and Shanaya are married. Legally. Rohan has never even seen a marriage license, hasn't had a serious girlfriend since he dated Shanaya in college. But now he lives with them, has sex with each of them regularly. What is he doing? What are _they_ doing?

These are the things that tend to run through Rohan's mind in the quiet peace. He's just watching TV, Shanaya's head resting on his shoulder. But she feels heavy against him, his entire body feels tense, and he feels trapped inside himself as he tries to sit still. He swallows heavily, pushing it all down, and Shanaya's head turns against his shoulder towards him, and he knows she notices but he doesn't acknowledge it until she pokes his cheek and he turns to her.

"That's your thinking face," she says matter-of-factly. "What's up?"

Rohan smiles and lays his head down lightly on top of hers. "What are we doing?" he sighs.

She purses her lips. "Watching TV..." she trails off, confused and probably a little worried. Rohan laughs.

"I mean, like..." He sits up, and Shanaya lifts her head, pushing herself away from him a little on the couch to give him space. He pauses, collecting his thoughts before turning to face her. She watches him, but his eyes focus on her knees.

"You and Abhi are married," he says.

"And I love you too!" Shanaya all but shouts, climbing up onto her knees and holding Rohan's face firmly in her hands. Rohan laughs again, taking a moment to observe the concern and care in her eyes rather than the annoyance he was expecting.

"I know, I know, I know," he responds, gently peeling her hands from his face and setting them in his lap, still holding them gently. He looks at their hands there together as he continues.

"You and Abhi are married," he says again. "Legally. I live here, sure, but I never signed anything that says I'm bound to either of you in anyway, legally, physically, emotionally. But I feel it, and I know you guys do, too." He pauses, looks up. "Where do I fit into all of this?"

Shanaya sighs, her head tilted to one side, her expression still caring, and Rohan knows she understands. She purses her lips again.

"I think what you really mean is, 'Who am I to you?'" she responds, and Rohan laughs, surprised at the movie reference. She’s still good at that, lightening the mood.

Shanaya is laughing too, but they calm themselves quickly, and Shanaya pulls their hands out of Rohan's lap but still holds onto them.

"I mean..." she starts slowly, playing with Rohan's fingers, choosing her words carefully. "when you came here...I started...in my head...thinking of you as my...other husband."

The words tickle his stomach. He likes the sound of that. It's just...

"Other?" he says slowly after a long pause. Shanaya's head drops forward, as if she is ashamed of herself for her mistake, when in Rohan's eyes, she never made one in the first place.

"Not other," she responds, picking her head back up. "There's no competition. Abhi's my husband. And so are you." She says this without batting an eye, like the concept of having two husbands is completely normal and not the craziest idea in the entire world. She's happy with this, and he is, too, Rohan realizes, and wow, he loves her so much.

"If that's okay," she adds quickly when Rohan doesn't respond, her eyes suddenly wide. Rohan smiles, full teeth, and Shanaya's shoulders visibly relax.

"It's more than okay," he says in awe, and Shanaya lets out a breath and smiles. "Does that mean though, that if you get to call me your husband, I get to call you my wife?"

Her face softens. "If that's what _you_ want," she says, and Rohan nods almost immediately. Her eyes get heavy, her expression turning into something more sensual. "That's usually how it works, isn't it?" she asks, her voice low, crawling on her knees towards him. "If there's a husband..." she climbs into his lap, straddling his hips, knees bracing either side of him. "There's usually a wife to go with him?" She holds his head in her hands again, thumbs brushing his jaw. He smiles mischievously, one hand resting on her hip, the other brushing her hair back from her face.

"Well, you never know nowadays," he jokes. "There could be a husband instead."

She shrugs one shoulder. "Maybe there could be both."

That sinks into the deepest crevices of Rohan's heart. His other hand settles against Shanaya's hips, and he smiles wider, blissful. "Maybe there could be both."

Shanaya gently holds the back of his head and kisses him.

It's slow and long, and it's aching when she pulls back. She chews lightly on her lower lip, grinning, and when she lets it go, Rohan runs his tongue over it. His hands slide down to hold her ass, and she rolls her hips into it, letting his tongue slide past her lips and kissing him again.

"Whoa," a male voice says from behind them, and the pair jump apart in surprise. It's just Abhi, though, watching them with amused, wide eyes. He chuckles as he sets his briefcase down against the wall and shrugs off his coat. "Sorry, didn't realize I was interrupting something."

"You're fine," Shanaya shrugs off, climbing off of Rohan and bounding over to Abhi to give him a quick kiss on the lips.

"Did I miss anything else?" he laughs, looking between the two of them and undoes the buttons on the wrists of his shirt. Shanaya looks over at Rohan, who is splayed across the couch in some kind of daze, propping himself up with his hands behind him. He just watches them, the ease of all of it, but Shanaya seems as if she's looking for something. When he doesn't say anything, Shanaya shrugs.

"Just talking," she says simply, but she's frowning, and Abhi looks between them again in a mix of confusion and concern.

"About what..." he asks slowly, pausing with his fingers against the cuff of his sleeve.

Rohan gives Shanaya a look that hopefully says "This is okay for you to talk about and be honest about" and pushes himself off the couch.

"Labels," Shanaya says, again choosing her words very carefully, drawing the first "L" sound out. "Things like that."

"Labels?" Abhi is still confused. He looks at his wife with furrowed eyebrows, and Rohan strolls over to them, hands in the pockets of his jeans, attempting to seem casual with the conversation, but he can feel his heart threatening to pump itself right out of his chest. Abhi turns to him as he gets closer, letting his arms down.

"I guess I have a wife now," Rohan says, grinning at Shanaya. She laughs a little self-consciously and ducks her head. Rohan turns to Abhi, his hands falling out of his pockets, limp at his sides. He's practically vibrating in anticipation of the words on his tongue to fall out of his mouth, and they both can probably sense it, which makes him even more nervous.

"Does that mean..." he adds, trailing off, unsure of himself now. But Abhi finally gets it. With a smirk, he steps fully into Rohan's space, cupping his cheeks.

"I've thought of you as my husband since the moment you walked through that door and back into my life."

Rohan smiles, radiant, and can't help himself but fling his arms around Abhi and kiss him senseless.

When they pull back, they relish in each other for just a little bit longer until Shanaya literally tries to squeeze her way in between their bodies.

"I want in on this," she says firmly, and they laugh, parting to make space for her in their group, Abhi kissing the top of her head.

* * *

Life is normal, or as normal as it can be for them, and the work doesn't stop, especially for Rohan. It all finally starts to feel normal for him--just about all of his things have moved to Abhi and Shanaya's house (his house? Their house?), he accepts the love Abhi and Shanaya have to give, and the words "husband" and "wife" roll of his tongue like they've been part of his routine his entire life.

It's just then when Rohan books a two-month tour around the country.

It's part of the business, part of his job. And he wants to support his family, would feel guilty if Abhi was the only breadwinner in the house. It'll be good for him, and for his brand, to be out into the world and in the public eye again.

That doesn't make it any easier when departure day comes, Rohan's bags are packed, and he's preparing to be separated from Abhi and Shanaya for the longest period of time since after college.

"Do you have to go?" Shanaya mumbles against Rohan's chest for what feels like the twentieth time. All three are standing in the foyer to say goodbye, and Shanaya's arms are tight around Rohan's waist, refusing to let go. Her hair is up in a messy bun and it tickles Rohan's nose as he holds her.

"It's just two months," he says, and she scoffs. He gently pries her off from against him, and looks into her eyes. He doesn't want to leave them either, but they all know he has to. "I'll be back before you know it."

"But I'll miss you," she responds, her lower lip jutting out. Rohan smiles sadly and pushes a strand of hair back that had fallen out from her updo.

"I know," he sighs. "I'll miss you, too." And Shanaya, as if she can't take it anymore, is back with her head buried into his shoulder, holding onto him for dear life.

"Don't go..." she begs, and Rohan laughs, swaying with the momentum of it, holding her against him, Abhi laughing softly behind them.

"Will you at least let me say goodbye to my husband as well?" he asks lightly against her hair. She doesn't move for a moment, and then she is up, kissing him hard. He softens it, and she responds in earnest, letting it linger, chasing his lips when he eventually pulls back. But she does let go of him, slowly, and Rohan carefully steps out of her grasp. He slowly makes his way to Abhi, who does not have the same adorable, dejected puppy look as Shanaya, but doesn't look like he wants Rohan to leave either.

They face each other, inches apart, and Rohan has never seen Abhi so pained like this, and now he understands why Shanaya refused to let him go. He wants to run back to her, hold her just as steadfast and tight as she had held him, drag Abhi with him and never leave either of them ever again. But they all know that's not possible. So when Abhi gently touches his cheek, Rohan crumbles, all but collapses against Abhi's body, his arms around Abhi's torso, Abhi cradling Rohan's head against his shoulder.

"You'll be great," Abhi says into his hair, and Rohan shakes his head against Abhi's shoulder.

"I can't leave you two again," Rohan mumbles. "I don't want to."

"I don't want you to go, either," Abhi sighs sadly. Shanaya takes a step towards them and lightly rests her head against Rohan's shoulder. Rohan unfurls one of his arms and slings it around Shanaya's waist, pulling her into the embrace.

"You'll be back soon enough," Abhi adds. "That's what you told Shanaya. And we'll be right here waiting for you." Shanaya nods her head against Rohan's shoulder. "We promise."

Everyone eventually peels themselves off of each other. Shanaya takes a step back, and Abhi holds Rohan's face again, this time with both hands. Rohan leans in and kisses him gently, keeping their foreheads together when they pull back.

"Why weren't you this upset when you were saying goodbye to me?" Shanaya says softly, a tinge of sadness in her voice. Rohan turns to her. Her arms are folded in front of her, and she smiles as if she was just joking around, but it doesn't reach her eyes, so there is some truth to what she said. Rohan approaches her again and cups her face.

"I guess when I was saying goodbye to Abhi, I forgot that it's not goodbye," he says truthfully, not realizing how real his words actually were until he said them out loud. "It's just see you soon."

She nods, accepting this. He kisses her again, just as soft as he had Abhi.

"See you soon," she replies when they pull back. She gnaws at her lower lip for a moment. "I love you," she adds.

Rohan sighs and presses their foreheads together, closing his eyes. "I love you too." He pulls back and turns to Abhi again. "And I love you."

"I love you," Abhi says breathlessly and pulls Rohan in for another tight hug. Rohan forces himself to pull back before he gets too attached again. He gives one last look at his husband and his wife, picks up his bags, and heads out the door.

Rohan shares the bus with his band, and it's a tight squeeze, but he expected just that. He gets used to it quickly. He's had a group chat with Abhi and Shanaya on WhatsApp since they started this relationship, and they're in contact constantly. Surprisingly, his bandmates don't question it, mostly because Rohan has gotten pretty good at keeping his childish, silly grins in check as he talks to his partners.

A few days into the tour, Rohan is one of the first awake and scrolling through his phone. The screen flashes with an alert for a new message in the group chat, and Rohan allows himself to smile as he opens it.

It's from Shanaya, a selfie of her and Abhi in bed, practically naked. Her hair is fanned out all around her, and she holds the blanket over her, just barely covering her nipples. Abhi is next to her, propping his head up with one hand, his chest exposed. The photo only shows from the waist up, but Rohan knows in his gut that they'd be in a full-bodied, uncovered snapshot.

The message itself reads "We missed you last night..." and Rohan starts to get restless, warm, a little sweaty, and can feel a bulge in his pajama pants start to form. He sits up--others are starting to wake up, and they can't see him in this state. Rohan knows they would question him, tease him, lightly, but Rohan doesn't want to face it. He responds to the message with emojis, a few shocked faces, with wide eyes and open mouths, and a lot of heart eyed faces. He even includes a couple of eggplants at the end, and when he sends it off, he gets an almost immediate response from Abhi of crying laughing faces and a heart.

Rohan's situation has calmed down by the time the rest of the bus wakes up. They're still keeping to themselves mostly, too tired and groggy to interact with other people, when Rohan gets a phone call. Shanaya. Rohan settles back into his bunk and answers.

"Hello?"

"Hi, husband," Shanaya teases, and Rohan can hear the grin in her voice, can practically see it in his mind, and again, he forces himself to remain calm.

"Hi," he responds with a quiet smile.

"There are people around, aren't there?" she asks, her voice going flat. She knows he'd respond with a silly, cheesy "hi, wife" if he was alone, so it's easy for her to figure this out.

"Yeah," he sighs, making it a point not to look at everyone.

"Then this is going to be a fun conversation," she says, a glimmer of mischief creeping back into her voice.

"Why?" he asks.

"We wanted to talk to you about something."

"We?"

"Hi!" Abhi's voice comes loud and clear through the phone, and Rohan has to fight his smile again.

"No, you're supposed to say 'Hi, husband.'" Shanaya says to Abhi, her voice a little fainter.

"I'm not doing that," Abhi retorts. "He knows he's my husband." And Rohan can't help but laugh at this. His drummer, Aryan, looks at his quizzically. Rohan shoots him a look back, _Hey, I'm on the phone, this conversation is none of your business, leave me alone_. Aryan rolls his eyes and turns back to his own phone.

"It's not like I need to remind him who he is a hundred times just to be cute." Abhi is saying as this goes on. "And if there are other people around, what's the point if he can't say it back?"

"Oh, you're no fun," Shanaya responds.

"Hi, Abhi," Rohan interjects. Aryan looks at him again. _Who's Abhi?_ he mouths. _A friend._ Rohan mouths back. It's just easier.

"So listen," Shanaya continues. "First of all, we're glad you liked our photo..." she trails off, teasing.

"She kept telling me to 'pose all sexy' and it was weird and a little invasive and I couldn't keep a straight face for longer than two seconds and she's probably still annoyed with me, but I did it, so you'd better appreciate these things I suffer through for you." Abhi says all of this quickly and in one breath, and it makes Rohan laugh again.

"I do," he responds.

"Okay, and to the matter at hand," Shanaya interjects. She takes a big, audible breath. "We were thinking," she says slowly, and Rohan isn't sure if she's choosing her words carefully or taking pauses for dramatic effect. "That when you get back...we kind of wanted to try...having sex...all three of us."

Rohan freezes as his brain short circuits. He sits up slowly, eyes focusing on the wall in front of him, a million thoughts running through his brain. How would that even work? Is that even possible? They've really thought about that? They're really okay with that? Into that? Why did they have to bring it up now, when he's so far away from them? Image flood his head, Shanaya's dark eyes, Abhi's rugged jaw, soft lips everywhere, all over him, in two places at once, soft skin, taut muscle, Shanaya's long hair, Abhi's stubble, Shanaya's breasts, Abhi's torso, Shanaya's pussy, Abhi's cock...

Rohan has another problem. Much worse this time. Oh, how he wishes he was home again...

"A-All?" Rohan's voice cracks. It's the most he can get out without looking suspicious. It's the most he can get out, period. He sinks back down, propping his knees up, hoping that will conceal everything.

"At the same time," Shanaya responds without hesitation. Rohan can practically see her expression in his head again, chewing her bottom lip, toying with a lock of hair. The images he conjured come back, and Rohan starts to sweat, the problem becoming harder to ignore. That idea, he wants it, needs it, the extended time apart suddenly agonizing.

"How would that work?" Rohan's voice shakes, and he can feels Aryan's eyes on him again, and it burns. Rohan ignores it.

"We don't know," Abhi responds. "We'll have to do some research. Kind of like you and I did." A breathless laugh. This is torture. "That is," he continues. "If this is something you'd be interested in."

"Yes," Rohan responds a little too quickly, sitting up again. He looks at Aryan, who's still watching him. Rohan settles down again. "Yes," he repeats, a little quieter.

"Okay," Abhi says, letting out a breath. "We can talk more when you get back, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good to know we're all on the same page."

"Abhi, this isn't a business deal," Shanaya complains.

"Can you just let me talk to my husband?" Abhi retorts back.

"We called on my phone! And he's my husband, too!"

"Hey," Rohan says firmly. He holds off from a "hey, guys," not wanting to make it obvious that he's talking to more than one person. "When tour is over, we can continue this conversation. But right now...it's too much."

"So that means you have a boner and you can't do anything about it because you live in a crowded tour bus now," Shanaya says matter-of-factly, and Rohan laughs out loud.

"Pretty much."

"Then we'll let you go," Abhi says. "It was good to talk to you, even if for a little while."

"You too."

"Abhi, can you stop being so formal for, like, two seconds?" Shanaya quips.

"No."

Rohan chuckles again.

"We miss you," Shanaya says to him.

"You too."

"We love you," Abhi adds.

"You too."

"And you'd really say 'I miss you' and 'I love you' and all that back if there weren't other people around. Right?" Shanaya asks.

"Of course."

"Good." Rohan can hear the satisfied smile in her voice. "Go make that stage your bitch. Talk to you soon."

"Bye, Ro!"

Another bright laugh. "Bye."

He hangs up, plays with the volume buttons on the side and refuses to look at Aryan, who's still watching him.

"I'm not an idiot," Aryan says. "You're completely, desperately, head over heels in love with whoever was just on the phone, whether it was this Abhi person or someone else. And I'm not gonna ask questions, because you clearly don't want to talk about it, but I'm here when you're ready, and I'm really happy for you." Rohan can see him leaning back on the couch. "And you better take care of _that_ before someone else notices and _will_ ask questions."

Rohan looks down. His legs have subconsciously straightened out and the tent in his pajama pants is making itself obvious. Rohan feels his face heat up, and slowly leans to the side. The bathroom at the end of the hall is empty, and no one is in the small space leading up to it.

"You're the best, man," Rohan says and makes a mad dash for the bathroom. He closes the door with a thud that seems final, as if something dangerous and serious is going to happen in this tight space. And that's when Rohan notices he's still clutching his phone.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he opens the front-facing camera, hits the video record button, and props the phone on top of the toilet against the wall, which proves to be extremely difficult, considering he's still shaking and reaching into his pants with one hand at the same time. Eventually, the phone steadies, and Rohan has his cock firmly in his hand, shoving his pants down further around his thighs to get more comfortable. He leans against the opposite wall and closes his eyes, stroking himself slowly. He let the images flood back into his mind, imagines it's someone else's hand around his cock, Abhi's strong hands, Shanaya's small ones, her sharp nails, his calloused fingers. He swears he can smell them, Shanaya's rose perfume, the ocean scented cologne that Abhi only wears on special occasions. Rohan could smell it on Abhi when he had sex with him for the first time. Would he do it again? Would he do it for this?

And now he hears them as he inches himself closer. They're talking to him, coaxing him, both voices in his head at the same time. He has to force himself to keep his breathing in check, practically clamps his hand over his mouth to keep from crying out their names, the first syllables slipping out breathlessly. They'll surely be able to hear it on the video.

The video. He's filming this.

His eyes crack open, and he can see himself in the tiny screen, hair a mess from sleep and from leaning against the wall, skin raw and coated in sweat, his whole demeanor disheveled and wrecked. And Abhi and Shanaya are going to see this. And he can still hear them in his head, feel the phantom sensation of skin, scents clouding everything, and it's so much that he feels himself tighten and release so fast that he doesn't even know what's happening until he's coming.

He works himself through it, knees buckling, biting his fist to keep from crying out. When he's spent, he hunches over, holding his now limp cock and catching his breath. He pushes himself up, inhaling deeply a few more times as he brushes his hair off of his face and leans back against the wall. Finally, he slides his eyes open, the red recording circle still flashing in the corner of the screen. He smiles, leans closer to the camera, blows a kiss, then hits stop.

 _If I wasn't clear on the phone_ , he drafts in the group chat, _I am VERY into that idea..._ He attaches the video, and before he second guesses himself, presses send.

He stays in the bathroom as he waits for a response. He flushes the toilet to avoid suspicion. Wipes down the spots on the wall and the floor that are now stained. Cleans the tiny stains on his clothes with water and hand soap. Washes his hands, wipes the sweat from his body, splashes cold water on his face to calm the traces of heat that are still there. Finally, his phone buzzes, a few times in succession, and Rohan immediately grabs for it. Abhi responded. Multiple times.

I almost dropped my phone.  
And I just watched this three times back to back.  
_Fuck, Ro. The things I would do to that cock if I was there with you right now.  
_ You can't do these kind of things to me if you're not here.

Rohan is quick to type back, breathing slowly so he doesn't act up again.

 _I have no choice. You're not here.  
_ _And if you keep saying those things, I might just have to do it again._

Abhi's response is almost immediate.

_If that means we get another video, then I'm more than willing to contribute._

Rohan responds with a couple laughing emojis. A few seconds later, Shanaya's response comes in, in multiple messages like her husband's. The first consists of many surprised faces. The second is exactly four of the multiple drops of water, which Rohan understands enough as text slang for wetness, and it makes him laugh. And finally, a message.

_Come home, yaaaaaaar._

It breaks his heart so much that Rohan finally feels safe and tame enough to leave the bathroom unnoticed. A couple of people are concerned why he was in there so long. "Stomach ache," Rohan lies, brushing it off. Assures everyone he's fine. And that's the end of it.

* * *

Rohan is always electric on stage. Nothing else in the world gives him the same euphoria that performing for a crowd does, not even sex. And now that he is in love, and he's loved back, and he has not one, but two people waiting for his return, this pure joy bleeds into his performing. He is energetic and engaging in a way that he doesn't think he's ever been. And reporters seem to notice. Tour reviews are positive, and headlines marvel and wonder at this light energy, this freedom, this happiness radiating off of the singer. In press junkets and interviews, Rohan says as little as he can. Just that he's in a good place mentally and emotionally, and performing live is already one of the most energizing, his most favorite thing in the world, doing it now is magic. And this must have been the right thing to say. "Rohan Nanda Makes Rock Joyful Again on National Headlining Tour," the headlines read. "Rohan Nanda Gives Magical Performance in Kolkata" "Rohan Nanda's 'Mental and Emotional Good Place' Gives India the Best Tour of His Career" "Vele Tour Review: Thank You to Whatever is Making Rohan Nanda So Happy"

Another highlight is the meet-and-greets. Rohan has not reached peak levels of superstardom where he sells out stadiums and arenas, and his meet-and-greet lines are not drastically long. But this is a blessing in disguise, because he's now allowed to spend more time with fans who spend more money to meet him. It's another irreplaceable joy to get to know the people who listen to his music, interact with them, make them feel special. It's the best part of his job.

About halfway through the tour, they perform in New Delhi, the closest venue to his home. He texts Abhi and Shanaya, and they have another sappy conversation about how much they miss each other. But this meet-and-greet group before the show is larger than usual, so the conversation is cut short. And because it's New Delhi, it's the most diverse he's seen so far. Young children, high school couples, older men in small groups, they are all interesting and bring a smile to his face as he listens to their stories, gives them high fives and hugs, and of course, takes pictures taken by a professional photographer.

He meets a young boy named Raj, nine years old, who stalls for a moment by the curtains blocking off the meet-and-greet area, then bolts for the singer. Rohan lifts him up and balances him on his hip as Raj talks to him, Raj’s mother watching from the sidelines. Rohan is his idol, the boy says, and wants to be just like him when he grows up. Rohan always gets choked up when young people say how much they look up to him, and smiles as he hugs the boy, who now looks like he’s going to explode. They take a few pictures, one nice one, another with “rock and roll” hands, and a final one with his mother. Rohan is light as air as he waves goodbye to the pair, the boy bouncing on his toes.

A young couple comes around the curtain. The woman wears a strapless, bright orange top and tight black jeans. The man, two steps behind her, is wearing a navy blue T-shirt and light-colored, worn out jeans. They are elated to be here, but Rohan can practically feel his stomach fall out of him.

Shanaya. And Abhi. Here.

“Oh my God, it’s really Rohan Nanda,” Shanaya says in disbelief, folding her hands, as if she is nothing more than a fan meeting one of her favorite musicians. Abhi laughs behind her. “I love your music, we both do, we’re HUGE fans.”

Rohan feels frozen to the spot. They knew he was coming to Delhi before he’d texted them. They knew weeks in advance not just that he was coming to Delhi, but when he was coming to Delhi, and bought tickets and meet-and-greet passes, and they paid all this money and gave up all this time, just to see him. To say Rohan is floored is an understatement.

Shanaya drops the act and starts giggling. “Surprise!” she says, taking a couple of steps towards him. And Rohan smiles and takes subconscious steps forward, drawn to her, and their arms are around each other, and she’s still laughing in his ear, and she still smells like roses, and a little bit like vanilla, and she is so warm and soft and real that Rohan buries his face into her shoulder and suddenly finds himself crying.

“Aww, Ro,” Shanaya chuckles, running a hand up and down his back, “No, we didn’t want to make you cry, we wanted to make you happy.”

Rohan laughs, but he’s still crying. “I am,” he says, barely intelligible, voice completely broken. He changes to a whisper. “I’m so happy.”

He feels another warmth come up to his side and lay a hand on his back. Abhi. Rohan and Shanaya let go of each other and Rohan envelopes himself into Abhi’s arms, and Abhi laughs lightly and strokes the back of his head, and Rohan softly starts to cry again into Abhi’s shirt. Abhi presses his nose into Rohan’s hair, and Rohan can feel the light brush of Abhi’s lips against the side of his face, not noticable to the naked eye, and he wants to feel them there for real, kiss him senseless, kiss Shanaya everywhere, and Rohan has to lightly fist Abhi’s shirt into his hands to hold himself back. He feels Abhi breathe deeply against him, and Rohan knows he feels it, too.

“We’re his friends,” he hears Shanaya explain to the photographer and Rohan’s manager, and Rohan is already so fed up with this lie that he sniffles and pulls back from Abhi, wiping his eyes. Abhi keeps him pressed to his side, one hand lightly stroking his back, and it takes all of Rohan’s self control not to collapse back into him.

“You could have just asked,” he says, voice still heavy with tears. “I could have just given you tickets. You didn’t have to go through all this.”

“We wanted to,” Shanaya steps back towards him and wraps his arms around his waist, leaning into his other side. “We missed you too much,” she adds quietly against his shoulder. He strains to hear it. “It’s so empty at home without you.”

Rohan smiles, his happiness now more evident to the onlookers. He leans his head against hers. “I missed you too.”

“All right, enough of this sappy shit,” Abhi says, leaning on one leg and slinging an arm around Rohan’s shoulders. “Let’s take a photo.”

Rohan laughs and wipes the tear streaks from his face. He casually wraps his arms around both of their waists, and they smile for the camera. They pose for a few more, Shanaya’s and Abhi’s arms getting tighter around him, pressing closer to him, and Rohan stumbles a little bit, sending them all into a fit of laughter.

He hugs them both tightly one more time. “Thank you for coming,” he says quietly.

“You know we wouldn’t miss this,” Abhi says. And too quickly, they are whisked away by security. Rohan has to take a couple of deep breaths before the next person comes around the curtain. But he uses the new bright energy to finish the meet-and-greets, which go off without a hitch.

He hangs onto that brightness when he gets onstage, and he can feel it in every single one of his nerve endings that this is the best show he’s ever done. He is loose and energetic as the fire and the music seeps into his blood and flows through him, radiating out as pure light and power and soul. He steps to the edge of the stage and takes a moment to drink it all in. He always does this, makes it a point to memorize each crowd and how they choose to cheer for him of all people. But now he is searching through them. And sure enough, there they are, in the front, cheering and clapping just as loud as, if not louder than the rest of them. Rohan smiles at his husband and his wife, a shining, gleeful smile that lights up his whole body, only for the two people he loves most in the world. They are out in the world, all three together and the love they share is palpable, loud and soaring like the screams from the rest in the room. And it may be private, just between them, but for now, for Rohan, it’s enough.

He grabs the microphone from its stand, and as the guitar wails and the drums pound, he gets lost in it all.

After the show is over and they are all back on the bus exhausted, and after many words of praise and awe of Rohan’s performance, Rohan is in his bed, going through tonight’s meet-and-greet photos on his phone. Rohan has frequently asked the photographer to send them to him, in case there are any interesting stories he wants to share online, or simply just to relive the experience. Tonight, in the chaos of the surprise from his husband and wife, he forgot. But there’s a message from the photographer anyway, and all of the photos are attached. _Thought you’d want to have these_ , the message says. No hint of any suspicion. Rohan texts back a simple thank you.

He goes through them in the order they were taken, taking his time to look at all of them. But of course, he slows down and stops when he gets to his photos with Abhi and Shanaya. The first thought that crosses his mind is that he’s grateful that he doesn’t look like he was just crying. And then he is taken aback by how happy he looks, how happy they all look. He can see it in their expressions, deep in their eyes, and alone in the dark, the overwhelming disbelief of how lucky he got, how the stars continue to align themselves in his favor, digs itself into his heart.

He stops at one photo in particular. It’s the same pose that they had in all their photos, both of Shanaya’s arms around his waist, one of Abhi’s around his shoulders, Rohan’s arms around the both of them. This might have been taken after he stumbled, because they all look like they were caught in a moment of laughter. Their eyes are slightly squinted in happiness, and their smiles could light up a stage. It tugs at his heart strings even more, and Rohan feels himself getting emotional again, wishing with everything in him that they were crammed into this tiny twin bed with him.

He posts the photo on Instagram with the caption "Thank you. I love you." The comments and headlines immediately latch onto it, speculating and wondering who these people are and what the post means. “Could These Be The People Behind Rohan Nanda’s Newfound Happiness?” one website asks. _Why, yes_ , Rohan thinks as he reads it the next morning. _Yes, that’s it, you’ve cracked it_.

He also has WhatsApp messages in the group chat. The first is from Abhi. It’s a screenshot of Rohan’s post, attached to a message that reads _You were absolutely incredible. Love you so much_ . There’s another one from Shanaya, sent soon after. _WE LOVE YOUUUUU!!!!!_ it reads, along with about a hundred sparkly heart emojis. This, and the deep memories of last night, can get him through the rest of this.

* * *

“Getting through it” is an overstatement and much easier than Rohan expected. He was right, though--that one perfect night electrifies him and makes the rest of his performances even bigger and better than before. But that doesn’t mean the end comes as a surprising relief. He does a couple more interviews and then gets to go home. Two days before he was scheduled to. So he figures it’s only fair that he can make a surprise of his own.

The bus drops him off, and he bids a fond goodbye to his band. He’s grateful he can carry all his bags on his own, and treks up to the entrance. He’s never felt this much peace walking up to his front door after being away from home for so long. So he lets it spread down to his toes before unlocking the door.

It’s midday, and it’s the middle of the week. Abhi is certainly not home, and Shanaya could very well be out as well. Still, he’s careful to shut the door behind him.

“Hello?” a female voice calls. Shanaya’s home. Rohan grins and, as quietly as he can, starts setting his bags down against the wall.

“Who’s there?” Shanaya asks, still hidden from view, but louder, closer than she was before. She sounds scared, like she thinks he is an intruder, and Rohan feels instantly guilty. One duffel bag is still slung over his shoulder, and he grips the strap as he calls out to her.

“Shanaya?”

“RO?!” she screams and bursts from around the wall. Her hair seems lighter than it was a month ago, and it falls in the loosest waves. She is wearing pink and white pajama pants and a dark gray T-shirt that hangs down to the side and exposes one shoulder. She is free of makeup. But the key thing that Rohan notices is that she is visibly shocked yet overjoyed to see him.

She squeals and runs towards him. He drops the duffel bag and catches her as she jumps into his arms, securing her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist. His arms are tight around her as he spins her around, her laughter high and bright in his ears. He laughs into her neck, her hair tickling his nose, and he closes his eyes as he slows down. When he stops spinning, she unwinds her legs and climbs down, a little wobbly on her feet. He holds her steady.

“You weren’t supposed to be back until Friday,” she quips, looking up at him with wide eyes. He shrugs one shoulder.

“Surprise,” he teases, grinning. She lightly slaps his cheek, and he feigns pain until she tightens her arms back around his neck, pressing her forehead against his.

“I missed you,” she coos. “Don’t ever leave me again.”

He laughs. “I can’t promise you never again. But I can promise you a while. And I missed you too. So much.”

She smiles and kisses him.

It quickly escalates into something more passionate. This is the first time they’ve held each other, kissed and touched like this in months. His hands are in her hair, on her shoulder blades, her back. She is making the tiniest little noises, trying to restrain herself, and it’s driving Rohan insane.

“I want you,” he whispers in between kisses. “I have to have you.”

She breaks the kiss, breathing hard. “You’ve only been home for five minutes.”

“And that’s five more minutes added onto the two months I’ve been without you.” He holds her face. “I need you, I need you so bad.”

Her jaw is slack, as if she has never been wanted so passionately in her life, and there is a moment where something crosses her face that she might reject his advances. But she just pulls him in close, grabbing his hair, clawing his scalp, hiking a leg up against his hip, trying to climb on him again. He slides his hands under her thighs and hoists her up, and she wraps herself around him again.

When they get to the bedroom and shut the door behind them, it feels as though they’ve shut the door on time itself. They slow down, breathing each other in, and at once, Rohan understands the rush of being together again but wonders why they were so quick to be so close so fast. He can’t promise her he’ll stay forever, but he can promise her he’ll stay for a long time. So he might as well make the most of it.

He gently lays her down and slowly strips her naked, kissing and licking every single inch of her. She takes him by surprise by flipping them over so he’s on his back, strips him down, and kisses every inch of him. As if he wasn’t completely under her spell already.

She settles back down and lets him love her endlessly. There are no fancy tricks, no new experiments, just two people, two bodies pressed together, two souls fusing. His eyes are closed and his face is buried deep into the curve of her neck as he rocks into her. Her hands claw at his back, scratch the back of his neck, fist into his hair, and she pulsates around him. He cannot possibly get closer to her, and he will never be close enough.

They still hold each other tight when they’re done. Shanaya wordlessly requests that he stay inside her for a few more moments, as long as he can. He does, and neither move until she shifts her hips and he pulls out. He holds her to his chest under the warmth of the blanket, radiating in the shared heat. They rest for a while. Eventually they separate and Shanaya goes downstairs while Rohan takes a shower.

The hot water feels so good against his tired skin. He makes a note to value the simple pleasures more often, like showering in your own home, and he stays under the spray for a little longer than he normally would, letting the deep-seated heaviness of tour get extracted from his skin.

When he’s done, he towels off and puts on his favorite old pair of pajamas: the loosest pair of pajama pants he owns, a light denim color, and a completely faded, stretched out white T-shirt that Rohan probably should have gotten rid of a long time ago, but just can’t seem to part with it. The fibers have stretched out to the point that there’s very little Rohan finds softer.

He’s running a towel back and forth through his hair when he hears a commotion coming from downstairs. He’d left the door wide open--with the very active sex lives they have, there’s really no place for modesty. But it sounds like someone is running up the stairs, heavy slams getting closer and closer. Rohan keeps his back to the door and freezes, the towel still draped over his head. The steps get louder as they get closer, and as a result more aggressive, and then they stop. Something slams against wood, dangerously close to where Rohan is standing, and there’s heavy breathing, again too close.

“Ro?” a deep voice asks, so much hope in his voice it almost makes Rohan laugh. Abhi. Rohan lets the towel fall over his shoulders and turns around slowly.

Abhi is breathless as he stands there, still in his work suit, bracing the edges of the doorway with his hands, leaning heavily on one side. His eyes are wide, and the hope that Rohan could pick up in his voice is evident in his eyes, even as it shifts to joy. A surprised, euphoric smile lights up his face, and his shoulders relax.

“When Shanaya said you were home, I didn’t believe her,” he says, still catching his breath a little bit. “You weren’t supposed to come back for another two days.”

And just like hours ago, Rohan shrugs.

“Surprise.”

Abhi chuckles, and Rohan follows suit. Then Abhi is calm, finally, and he looks heavily at Rohan. He matches his gaze and lets the towel fall off his shoulders and onto the floor. Abhi steps into the room, long strides but still giving Rohan his space and continuing to hold his eyes. Rohan feels trapped and mesmerized all at once.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I think I’m going to explode,” he says breathlessly, not even thinking before he speak. Abhi just smiles.

“If you don’t come into my arms in the next ten seconds, I think I’m going to explode,” Abhi responds, and Rohan laughs shyly, ducking his head. _Since when did he turn into such a blushing bride?_

But then he looks up and Abhi slowly raises his arms and spread them as if he’s freaking Shah Rukh Khan, and Rohan laughs again, giddy, and closes the short distance between them.

The wind is knocked out of Abhi for a brief moment, and then his arms are around Rohan’s torso and he sighs deeply, as if now that Rohan is back he is finally able to breathe again. Rohan’s arms are around Abhi’s neck and he rests his head on his shoulder. Their bodies are flush together, and Rohan can feel every muscle through the thin material of Abhi’s dress shirt. The top buttons are already undone, and Rohan can feel Abhi’s racing heart pound in his ears, and he needs to be closer to him. Abhi threads a hand through Rohan’s hair, and Rohan sighs against him, sliding his hands down, underneath his suit jacket, and around his waist. For a moment, he’s torn between giving into these desires and going back downstairs to his wife and bringing back the normalcy.

The decision is made when Abhi separates from him and lightly kicks the door shut.

Rohan pauses at the dominating behavior. Abhi’s head is low and his eyes are teasing, his grin wicked. He slowly saunters towards Rohan again, and Rohan takes small steps backwards.

“We should probably go downstairs,” Rohan says, toeing the line between genuine and teasing. “Aren’t you hungry?”

Abhi grins wider, showing his teeth. A hand slides to Rohan’s waist. “Food can’t satisfy the hunger I have right now.”

Rohan chuckles. The line is cheesy, but he loves it, and Abhi knows that. He continues to invade his space, their noses brushing now, and Rohan backs up until the back of his knees hit the bed. He falls back, and in a split second, grabs Abhi’s collar and pulls him down on top of him. A laugh bubbles out of Abhi as he braces the fall with his elbows, but it dissipates as Rohan tugs him down even further to kiss him.

His lips taste like coffee and feel like soft pillows. Their lips slide together heavenly until the edge of the bed starts to dig into Rohan’s back. He slides up and away from Abhi to scoot up towards the pillows. Abhi follows him, slides up his body with the same heated look in his eyes, and Rohan can’t help but laugh quietly. When they are settled, Abhi seals his mouth back against Rohan’s and presses their bodies together. Rohan arches into his strength, combing his fingers through his hair. Abhi slips a hand in between their bodies and slides down slowly. He passes over the hem of Rohan’s pants and goes straight for his quickly hardening cock, palming and squeezing it through the cotton. Rohan sucks in a harsh breath, pulling back from the kiss and letting his head fall back, crying out loud and long. He comes to long enough to look through half-lidded eyes.

“Can I?” Abhi asks quietly. Rohan smiles dreamily.

“Anything you want.”

Abhi kisses his neck once and rubs him again. Rohan lets out another groan.

“Let me worship you,” Abhi whispers against his skin, his breath washing over Rohan as he pulls away. Rohan can’t nod fast enough.

They peel each other’s clothes off and Abhi kisses his way down Rohan’s entire body, every curve, every inch of skin. When he comes to Rohan’s now fully hard cock, he kisses around the base and licks a tentative stripe up, with just the tip of his tongue. Rohan shivers, the feeling hitting every nerve ending. Abhi does it again, harder, with the heavy base of his tongue, and Rohan’s muscles tighten subconsciously. Abhi swirls his tongue around the head, wraps his lips around it, and slides all the way down. Rohan’s muscles turn to jelly.

Whatever Abhi can’t get down his throat, he wraps his hand around and twists. Every movement is like an electric shock, and Rohan doesn’t hold back his cries of pleasure, knowing full well that Shanaya is right downstairs and it just makes everything hotter. He gives into it completely, all of the wet sounds surrounding him, Abhi’s hums against him that vibrate through Rohan’s very bones. His hands fist the sheets, then tug at Abhi’s hair, feeling it build up so fast inside him it almost makes him go blind, and then Abhi’s wet heat is gone and Rohan sits up in confusion, searching for it. Abhi’s pupils are completely blown and dark as he looks at Rohan, and he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, a little bit of white trapped in the corners, and fuck, that shouldn’t turn Rohan on right now.

“That is not what I meant when I did this,” Rohan says, drips of annoyance in his voice, and yanks on Abhi’s hair again, hard. Abhi groans in a mix of pain and pleasure, one corner of his mouth smirking up, and laughs darkly, pushing Rohan back down and kissing him passionately. Rohan’s fingers remain settled in Abhi’s hair, kissing him back, letting Abhi’s tongue into his mouth. And when Abhi’s hands come around to grip Rohan’s ass, Rohan understands. Patience, Abhi always says, about everything. Patience is a virtue. Everything will be so much better the longer you wait for it. Rohan hikes his knees up and the tips of Abhi’s fingers come closer to his hole. They have been separated for two months. He has waited long enough.

They take their time making love, finally having the mutual understanding of patience and slowing down. Their foreheads remain pressed together as they move in rhythm, the sweat and the tension building up just as fast as it had before. But Rohan lets it wash over him, lets the waves rock through him and around him, pulling him away and sending him adrift. He is in the middle of an ocean, and holds onto Abhi for dear life, taking him away with him. And when it all crescendos and explodes, the ocean becomes a waterfall, and they fall over the edge in perfect unison.

They are still locked together, sweaty and breathless, when Abhi’s stomach rumbles, the vibrations hitting Rohan’s own stomach, causing the both of them to burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. They wash up as quick as they can and dress, Rohan returning to the same pajamas he had on before, Abhi in pajama pants and a sweatshirt left unzipped. No shirt underneath. Rohan raises his eyebrows, and Abhi shakes his head.

“It’s not like there’s anything to hide.” Their bodies. Their sex. Abhi is right. Nothing.

Rohan kisses the dip of his collarbone, simply because he can, and they go downstairs. Shanaya is leaning against an almost empty counter, eating chicken makhni and veggie samosas out of plastic boxes. Takeaway dinner. There’s a thin plastic bag next to her with other boxes inside. She got for them too.

The men are a little awkward as they drag bar stools over to the counter and sit down. She looks up in acknowledgement, but her expression remains neutral as she unloads the rest of the boxes from the back. But when she hands them their food, a smile starts to spread over her face, as if she just remembered that her two husbands just has sex upstairs. Abhi’s face turns bright red as he takes his food. When Rohan reaches for his, she doesn’t let go of the box initially. Instead, she meets his eye and winks, a little exaggerated.

Oh yeah. She definitely heard the whole thing.

Rohan snatches the box out of her hand, and he glares at her as she doubles over in laughter.

* * *

Rohan finds new music inspiration now that he’s home again. A lot of love songs. In his own signature, hard rock style, but still. They’re pretty much all love songs.

So Rohan is in the studio a lot, with his bandmates and producers, toying around with Rohan’s lyrics and melodies and recording rough demo tracks. They mess around and have jam sessions as well, and the pressure is eased off of Rohan for a few minutes. These songs are very personal, and very different from what he’s put out in the past. The lyrics touch on things Rohan has never put into his music before, and come from such deep places inside of him that he hasn’t played them for Abhi and Shanaya yet. They know that he brainstorms and records when he comes to the studio, but he refuses to divulge the specifics of the music. They’ll hear it when it’s done and polished and perfect.

It all feels like such a shift in attitude and style of sound that he almost didn’t put these ideas forward to his team. But he trusts them and trusts their vision, and when they have the first notes, things that Rohan jotted down as quickly as he could so he wouldn’t lose the thought, they are surprised but more than impressed. And they ask questions, and Rohan decides to be both honest and vague. He is in a relationship. And he is happier than he has been in a long time. Everyone gets it that Rohan wants to keep it private, so they don’t prod, but they are open about how happy they are for him.

A routine develops, and Rohan’s hours start to become so regular, his life feels like it’s toeing on the edge of true normalcy. So much so that, aside from going in some weekends, his team gravitates towards 9 to 5, Monday to Friday hours. Just the same as Abhi.

On one Friday in particular, Rohan pulls into the driveway as Abhi is walking up to the front door. Abhi stops and watches the car park, but Rohan doesn’t get out when he initially shuts the car off. They smile at each other through the window, and Rohan motions for Abhi to go inside. Rohan is still extremely careful about keeping this relationship as far away from the public eye as he can, so far away that there’s no suspicion at all of who he could be with. Which means not being seen frequently with his husband and his wife, certainly not in romantic, compromising situations, and certainly not walking into the same house together. Even if the likelihood of photographers stationing themselves outside Rohan’s house is crazy and unlikely, it’s something that happens and something Rohan has to watch out for. Abhi and Shanaya say he’s paranoid. Rohan says he’s being safe. He’s protecting them.

So Rohan waits an extra minute after Abhi goes inside and closes the door before Rohan gets out of the car. He can’t help but steal a few glances around the yard. The coast seems clear. Seems.

Rohan goes inside.

Abhi leans against the wall just out of reach of the opening door, hands behind his back. He smiles at Rohan, casual but bright, and Rohan stops in the doorway for a moment. When he closes it behind him, Abhi pulls him into his arms and kisses him.

Rohan laughs against his mouth and wraps one arm around his shoulders, his guitar case in the other hand. Abhi holds his waist, but Rohan carefully slips away for just long enough to put his guitar case down next to the wall. And then he comes back and slings his arms loosely around Abhi’s neck and kisses him again. Abhi locks his fingers together against the curve of Rohan’s lower back, and hums when they separate.

“I’m guessing you had a good day?” Rohan asks coyly. Abhi’s smile grows.

“My day always gets better when I come home to the both of you,” he responds. Rohan blushes.

“Damn, I didn’t realize how much I missed Shanaya until now,” he laughs, and Abhi frowns and lightly pushes him away.

“And you too!” Rohan responds, stepping back towards his husband and cupping his face. “Of course you too. But you’re here. Shanaya isn’t.”

“Yeah, speaking of, where is she?” Abhi asks, and now Rohan wonders too. She must have heard them both come in. And she would absolutely have greeted them. Why didn’t she?

Rohan moves through the hallway into the living room and Abhi is close behind, lightly holding onto his hand. “Shanaya?” Rohan calls. She’s not in the living room, the kitchen, at the table in the dining room.

“Did she text you she was going out?” Abhi asks.

“No,” Rohan breathes, his eyebrows creasing, getting more worried by the second. They’d be able to hear the shower from down here, but there’s silence. They start to head upstairs, and when they get to the second floor landing, they hear the tiniest of noises coming from down the hall. Shanaya.

Still attached at the hip, they take large, quick steps towards the source of the sound, their bedroom, slowing down when they are just shy of the doorway. The door is wide open, as they had left it this morning, but someone is clearly in there. Carefully, the men peer in, Rohan taking a step into the doorway. He then stumbles forward, almost tripping and colliding with the concrete. He braces himself against the doorframe as Abhi comes fully around, leaning against the other side of the frame.

Shanaya is safe, which is a relief. And she is alone. But she is spread out on their bed, lying down, dressed in all black. An almost completely see-through mesh black robe with fuzz on the sleeves and the collar, the shortest black, lace-trimmed babydoll dress, and lacy black panties. She doesn’t see them come in because her head is angled more in the direction of the ceiling. She doesn’t acknowledge their presence because she is too preoccupied, busy with the hand that’s in her underwear, pleasuring herself.

Both men have their jaws on the floor. Rohan’s first thought that crosses his mind, after long moments when his brain completely stopped working, _well, this is certainly a sight to come home to_. And it’s so cheesy, to think in this kind of way, these stereotypical, boring lines, when your wife is less than five feet in front of you, looking like a Greek goddess and touching herself, still emitting the tiniest of noises.

 _This is your wife. She is thinking of you right now, as she makes herself feel good. She is doing this for you_.

Rohan’s hand, that was bracing himself against the doorframe, slips and his shoulder knocks into it. The sharp thud of bone hitting concrete pounds through the room, and Shanaya gasps, sitting up slightly. Her hand stops moving but freezes in place under the fabric. Rohan meets her eyes with a hard stare, keeping his breathing slow and even, feeling no pain from impact. Shanaya’s expression morphs into a mischievous smile, and she settles back down slowly, keeping her head up, her hair cascading perfectly down the sides of her face, and she cannot possibly from this earth.

“I wanted to surprised you,” she says breathy, sexy. Her hand starts moving again, slowly, and she leans her head back and sighs around another small moan. “I couldn’t wait.”

Her breathing gets faster as her movements get firmer, and she starts to slowly roll her hips against herself, and Rohan’s own impatience is skyrocketing too quickly and suddenly he can’t take it anymore. He is so drawn to her, he steps toward the edge of the bed before he even realizes his feet are moving. Resisting is like fighting the pull of a magnet. Difficult. Futile. Not worth it to fight.

He climbs onto the bed on his knees and crawls over her. She doesn’t gyrate as much now that he is so close to her, but she doesn’t acknowledge him otherwise. Her eyes are still screwed shut and she whimpers, her hair fanning out around her. Gently, Rohan coaxes Shanaya’s hand out of her underwear and replaces it with his own. His fingers slide over her. She whines. She’s dripping.

“Oh, look at you,” Rohan coos, starting up a slow rhythm. “So wet for us already.” He turns to look over his shoulder at Abhi, who has been motionless by the door the entire time. “Come here. Look at our wife.”

Abhi’s expression remains surprisingly neutral. His shoulders move up and down steadily as he breathes. When he begins to walk forward, it’s dazed but calculated. Each step is an entire thought, and he has much more control over his movements. He kneels next to Shanaya and looks down at her, his eyes full of awe. She cracks her eyes open and smiles up at him, still breathing quickly as Rohan’s fingers continue to move against her. When she reaches up and gently touches Abhi’s face, his eyes darken, still in awe of her, but filling up with lust. He sighs as he leans into her touch, then follows it down as she cards her fingers through his hair, and kisses her.

She cups his face with her other hand and her upper body leans up into him. Rohan unconsciously slows the movement of his fingers against Shanaya as he watches them. He can see their tongues slide together, and that should not be as hot as it is, but Rohan can feel his jeans starting to tighten. Shanaya pushes her hips into Rohan’s hand, which has now stilled completely, and he laughs, starting back up again. He brushes the tip of his pointer finger against her clit, and she moans against Abhi’s mouth. Keeping the movements going, he carefully shift his body upwards and lightly kisses Abhi’s bicep, the point of his shoulder. Abhi lets out a breath and makes quick work of pulling off his suit jacket and starts to undo the buttons of his shirt. He had to pull away from Shanaya in order to do this, and he moves so fast that she and Rohan can’t help but laugh. Abhi ducks his head, embarrassed, and fumbles with the buttons. Finally, it’s open, and he pulls it off, tossing it to the floor. And then he’s back down to Shanaya, kissing her deeply. Her hands return to his hair as Rohan kisses his shoulder again, across the skin, lightly biting. One of Abhi’s hands shoots up to tug at the top of Rohan’s hair, pulling him down closer towards the curve of Abhi’s neck, where he is the most sensitive. Rohan goes for it, lightly running his tongue over the skin, and Abhi breaks away from Shanaya again to let out a groan.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. It at least wasn’t planned like this. Hell, it wasn’t planned at all. Since Rohan came home, they had talked extensively about Shanaya’s proposition to somehow all have sex at the same time. They had done comprehensive research, Rohan had watched Abhi and Shanaya’s favorite videos they had found while he was on tour. They’d figure out what could be possible and have a wonderful, romantic night. Coordinated and planned, sure, but perfect.

So far, this is not coordinated. Rohan slides sticky fingers out of Shanaya’s underwear and trails them up her stomach, pushing her dress up. He kisses just above her belly button and Abhi almost elbows him in the head. There are times where Abhi’s knees press to hard into Shanaya’s side, when she almost whacks one of them in the face with her hand, with the sleeve of her robe as she takes it off, and it’s all just a tangle of too many bodies that they are not used to dealing with all at the same time. Amongst the noises of pleasure, there are sounds of pain, shouts of frustration. Shanaya covers her face with her hands, exasperated. She stays like this for a while, and both Rohan and Abhi push themselves off of her. The men freeze as her body starts to shake as she rolls over onto her side. She is still breathing fast, but it sounds like she’s hiccuping. It’s not until Rohan leans down and sees the corners of her lips peeking out from behind her hands that he realizes she’s laughing.

She rolls back onto her back and wraps her arms around her stomach as she laughs harder. It rings through the room and it’s so contagious that Rohan starts to laugh as well, and Abhi follows suit. Shanaya presses her hands to her forehead and closes her eyes.

“Why are we suddenly so bad at this?” she whines.

“Suddenly?!” Rohan almost shouts, laughing again. “We’ve never done this before, and the only reason why we’re doing it now instead of on some predetermined Friday night is because _you_ ,” he falls on top of her, bracing his hands on either side of her head before his body collides with hers. She screams anyway. “Decided to dress yourself up like a little _vixen_ ,” he presses his nose to the side of her face, and she laughs. “What did you expect us to do,” he speaks in between kisses, pressing closer into her with each one. “When we come home. And find you like this. Touching yourself. Looking like a damn goddess. You little. Tease.” She is giggly as she rolls her on her side away from him, and he holds her waist, keeping her from moving. She manages to push him away and yanks his T-shirt up over his head.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she mumbles, throws it to the side, and then immediately makes work of his jeans. He laughs and leans up to help her take them off. She motions to Abhi, who has been sitting silently to the side during all of this. She nods. “You too. Come here.”

Abhi looks like a deer caught in the headlights. His eyes widen and points to himself, as if maybe there’s someone else Shanaya could be talking to. She and Rohan laugh again, and Rohan clucks his tongue, climbing off Shanaya towards him.

“I’ll just do it,” Rohan sighs, jokingly annoyed, and reaches for Abhi’s pants. Abhi swats his hands away teasingly before allowing him to, slowly, peel them off. Rohan gently drops them to the side and holds Abhi’s hips. He kisses his stomach, up across his chest. Abhi holds the back of Rohan’s head, lightly running his fingers through his hair as Rohan moves up to his collarbone, his shoulder, his neck, and finally, his lips. He pulls Abhi flush against him as they kiss for a while. Abhi turns slightly, leading Rohan around, hands sliding down arms to his waist, and gently laying down, pulling Rohan on top of him. His fingers return to play with Rohan’s hair, gently cupping his cheeks. Rohan touches him everywhere he can reach, his face, his shoulders, his arms. His elbow knocks into Shanaya’s arm, and he pulls back to apologize. She seems startled for a moment, but otherwise doesn’t mind. She’s chewing on her thumbnail with a mesmerized look in her eye, and her hand has moved back into her underwear, moving in slow circles.

Rohan chuckles, and Shanaya grins at the two men. He carefully climbs off of Abhi and returns atop Shanaya. She lets both of her hands free as he kisses her again slowly. Abhi shifts to their sides, his face close to theirs. He pauses with his hand in Rohan’s hair, breathing them in, and then his hand alternates between his husband and his wife, hands in hair, kissing shoulders. Rohan’s hand is firm as it slides up Shanaya’s stomach, under her dress, and she sits up to help him take it off. He kisses her collarbone, down her chest, in between her breasts, across her stomach. Abhi hovers over her torso and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear before lightly kissing her. His hands find her breasts, and she hisses as she arches up, and Rohan takes the opportunity to pull off her underwear. He kisses just below her belly button, the jut of her hips, the curve of her legs, and once against her clit. She cries out, separating from Abhi’s mouth but keeping her hands locked on the back of his head. Abhi bends down to kiss the sharp points of her collarbone to soothe her, and Rohan slides his tongue in between Shanaya’s walls. She cries out again and clutches Abhi’s hair, and the man ducks down to see what’s happening, Shanaya’s grip too iron to escape from. He chuckles low as he sees Rohan, his breath hot and wet against Shanaya’s skin. One hand cards through Rohan’s hair, and his mouth seals over one of Shanaya’s nipples. She cries out sharply once more, and Rohan can’t help but smile at all of the sensations. His teeth accidentally bare slightly and lightly graze over her sensitive lips, and Shanaya shivers, tensing and letting out a shaky moan. Rohan carefully pull back for a moment and lets Shanaya adjust. But just like the first time they did this, her hand shoves at the back of his head, replacing Abhi’s that had slipped away, and forces him back to her. He laughs, hot against her wetness, and makes sure to keep his teeth in check as his tongue continues to stroke over her.

On Shanaya’s other breast, Abhi runs his thumb over the sensitive skin, swirling and occasionally pinching. It hurts a little bit, but it’s so satisfying and feels so good that, combined with Rohan against her pussy, Shanaya dissolves into a pool of desire. Abhi eventually switches, his mouth on her other side and his thumb replacing where his mouth just was. These movements feel different, now that her skin is wet with his saliva. She continues to tense and relax, her legs flung over Rohan’s shoulders, being careful not to tighten too hard around his neck, even as his tongue swirls around her clit and even occasionally slips inside her. Everything is so overwhelming and she has never felt this much pleasure all at once that her orgasm hits her before she can even prepare anyone, even herself for it. She screams at the intensity of it, one hand fisting in Abhi’s hair, the other in Rohan’s. Abhi gently kisses the sides of her breasts, coaxing her through it as Rohan swallows all of her down. She shakes, letting it roll through her entire body, feeling it from the top of her head all the way down to the tips of her toes. Eventually, her body slows and stills, and she breathes deeply, her hands loosening against hair and her legs resting heavily on Rohan’s shoulders. Abhi carefully rests his head against Shanaya’s chest, lightly holding onto her wrist, and watches Rohan as he gently cleans Shanaya up with his tongue and carefully pushes her legs off of his shoulders. He pushes himself up, Shanaya’s hand falling limp at her sides, and breathes heavily. He looks up at the other two--Shanaya is peacefully still, her eyes closed, her hand relaxed in Abhi’s hair, not moving. Abhi, on the other hand, has his deep, dark eyes on his husband, the same heated look he had before, his breathing getting faster. Rohan presses his lips together and they stick together more than they should. He darts his tongue out and licks the corner of his mouth. There are still traces of Shanaya’s wetness. She tastes like mangoes.

Abhi carefully slips out of Shanaya’s grasp and cups the back of Rohan’s head again, gently leading him up towards him. Rohan follows in some kind of trance, and Abhi seals his mouth over Rohan’s, licking across the softness of his lips, the inside of Rohan’s mouth, tasting Shanaya for himself. Rohan climbs on top of Abhi forcefully, one hand gripping his jaw, the other flung around his neck and clutching his shoulder. He was so preoccupied with Shanaya that he didn’t notice the hardness in his underwear, which is throbbing to the point that it’s almost painful and creating a sharp bulge in the fabric, a small wet stain coming through the center of the white. Rohan thrusts once, desperate for friction, and rubs against Abhi’s also still clothed erection, and he moans guttural, falling forward so he is horizontal and flat on top of Abhi again. They almost lean on Shanaya’s hand, and Abhi quickly apologize, gently moving it out of the way, and Rohan blindly reaches for her.

“Come here,” he breathes harshly against Abhi’s mouth, eyes closed, needing the feel of his wife’s soft body close to him again. But her small hand pushes his away, and Rohan pulls back with a noise of surprise and confusion. Both men open their eyes and turn to her. She is still serene, but her eyes are dark as she watches them. A few wisps of hair fall against her face. One hand rests against her pelvis, fingers angled down towards her pussy. She is still. She breathes evenly.

“No,” she sighs. Inhales deeply. “I want to watch you.”

It takes a minute to register, and then Rohan is laughing breathlessly. He looks between Abhi, who is looking at Shanaya with the same bright eyes and laughter, and Shanaya, whose smile is far more subdued, barely reaching her eyes, but her desire overpowering, radiating out of her. Rohan leans over and kisses her, and Abhi leans over and kisses the tiny space of her cheek that he can get to. But she is still feeling sticky and sensitive, and she writhers away. Abhi pulls Rohan back to him and kisses him again, holding his face. His hands almost immediately comes to Rohan’s hips, his thumbs tucking under the waistband of Rohan’s underwear and pulling it down. Rohan laughs brightly, lifting up on his knees to help him take them off, pulling off Abhi’s while he’s at it. Quickly, Abhi leans over and digs through the bedside drawer for lube. He pauses as he lays back down, staring up at Rohan with a soft smile. Rohan can’t help but return it, a little bashful, hands splayed across Abhi’s chest. Carefully, Abhi sits up, splays his hands across Rohan’s lower back, and gently flips them over so Abhi is now on top. Abhi then lubes up his fingers and Rohan pulls his knees up so his husband can slide a finger in.

By this point, they have done this so many times that Rohan is fully stretched and prepped in an incredibly short amount of time. But that means Abhi has also found every single one of Rohan’s sensitive areas, the spots that will make Rohan lose it, and before they know it, Rohan is mush underneath him. It feels like no time has passed at all by the time Abhi has three fingers inside of Rohan, kissing his neck, and Rohan whines loud, pushing down against Abhi’s hand. When it gets too much and Rohan gets impatient, he pushes at Abhi’s arm. Abhi slips his fingers out and quickly slides on the condom, lubing himself up.

“Do you have to do that every single time?” Shanaya suddenly pipes up. The men turn to her. She is chewing on her thumbnail again as she looks at them quizzically, head lolling to the side. Her other hand is clutching her own breast, and her legs have drifted open wider. It’s clear that she has not taken her eyes off of them the entire time, and for a split second, Rohan feels a little self-conscious.

“Pretty much,” Abhi says to her, and then turns back to Rohan, lining himself up with his entrance. The self-consciousness disappears, and it’s replaced with an idea that’s too good not to see through. He presses a hand to Abhi’s chest, lightly pushing him back.

“Wait,” he whispers. “I want to try something.”

Abhi’s eyes widen, and Rohan can see Shanaya’s pop open as well. Rohan sits up and, just like Abhi had, rotates them so Rohan is kneeling above him once again, straddling his hips. Confusion crosses his husband’s face for a moment, but it’s replaced with awe and intrigue as he settles back. His wife, on the other hand, knows immediately what is about to happen and grins in excitement, her teeth bared as they continue to chew on her thumbnail, her other hand sliding down her stomach and lightly starting to play with herself again.

Rohan stands on his knees and carefully lines himself with Abhi. Abhi’s hands come to Rohan’s hips to help him, and Rohan braces his hands on Abhi’s chest as he’s fully pressed against Abhi. As he always does, Abhi watches him with love and concern. Rohan screws his eyes shut and bites down on his lower lip as he carefully slides down, onto and around him.

Rohan feels full in a way that he hasn’t any other time they have done this. The angle is new, and he can feel Abhi’s thickness stretching him out. And as he breathes out slowly and looks down at Abhi, who has relaxed back against the bed, hands looser on Rohan’s hips now, he feels powerful. His lips curl up and he stops, Abhi almost completely inside of him. He uses his knees to push himself up and then slowly sink back down. He moans, dragged out, as the sensation of Abhi filling him up overwhelms him. Abhi’s fingers dig into his hips as he lets out harsh breaths. Rohan moves his hips around on the next go up and down, and already he can feel Abhi coming close to the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of him, and another sounds tears from his throat. Their pace gets faster as they find their rhythm, Abhi thrusting upwards to meet Rohan’s movements. He can see Shanaya out of the corner of his eye, her eyes locked on them, her fingers moving in and out of herself, releasing her own high noises. It feels like she’s trying to match their pace, which continues to escalate, and Rohan’s legs are starting to hurt, but that is nothing compared to the tightness that begins to build in his balls.

“Please…” he whispers. He doesn’t know what he’s asking for. The pressure inside of him to be released, the muscles in his thighs to relax. Abhi forcibly pulls Rohan’s body a little bit up, towards his chest, and Rohan scoots forward just enough that Abhi is right there against that spot inside him that has Rohan crying out, practically screaming, and coming all over Abhi’s chest within seconds.

His husband and his wife are both not far behind. The shift in angle must have done something for Abhi too, because he is pounding into Rohan, holding him so hard Rohan will surely have finger-shaped bruises on his hips in the morning. He groans as he comes, face scrunched up and then relaxing completely when the release hits. Shanaya is also loud when she finally reaches orgasm, her fingers lightning fast inside of her, and she gyrates against herself, working through it. Her mind is completely clear when she is saded and spent. _It’s not the same_ , the thought passes through her mind. _It’s not the same as either one of them, what both of them could do. But this will happen again. It will be even better next time_.

Rohan groans as he pushes himself off Abhi, his muscles sore from the exertion, and collapses on his side in the space between Abhi and Shanaya. He nearly lands on top of his wife, and they laugh in surprise as she rolls out of the way, turning back to him when she knows she is safe and slinging an arm over his and around his chest. He holds her hand as Abhi ties off the condom and throws it away, turning to face them and running his own hand over Rohan and Shanaya’s joined ones. Rohan loosens his fingers a little, and Abhi slips his against them in a weird mesh of hands, but they are too beat to worry. Abhi scoots closer. Rohan kisses the bridge of his nose, right in between his eyes. Shanaya lightly pushes on Rohan’s shoulder, unwidning herself, and he turns slightly, lying flat on his back now but facing her. Abhi watches as well as she props her head up with her hand.

“Maybe it was actually a smart idea to plan in advance,” Shanaya laughs. She always teased Abhi for this, for being so meticulously organized to the point where it felt like every moment of his life was planned out in advance, but now she understands. Abhi snorts, but Rohan just continues to look at her. She continues, slipping her hand away from the tangle.

“That was...incredible,” she breathes, another small laugh. “You two...are hot.” Rohan and Abhi laugh fully now. “But maybe we could do it again, and…” She doesn’t know how to say it. Rohan does.

“You want us inside you.”

She chews her lip, refusing to look either of them in the eye. Guilt is all over her face. “I just had two orgasms within an hour. That was the hardest I’ve ever come from masturbating. And I love that oral stuff you do, you know that. It’s just…”

Abhi takes her hand, the one that is not holding her head up, and runs his thumb over the back. “Sex is about connection. Physical, and as a result, emotional. And all of that is deeper the closer you are. Watching someone else have sex and touching yourself feels different than actually having sex with them. I get it.” Abhi pauses, his eyes focusing on empty space in the room. “And I think, if we really look into it and try, we can do that. Have that connection, all three of us, together.”

“God, man, you’re too good at this artsy poetry shit,” Rohan teases. Abhi shoots into a glare, holding back a smile, and lightly butts him against his forehead. Rohan’s jaw falls open in surprise and laughs as Abhi’s smile takes full form. He leans up and kisses him once, quickly, then turns back to Shanaya and gently pulls her head down towards him, kissing her on the cheek.

“I mean, if you think I’d be opposed to doing that again, you guys are insane,” Rohan says. Laughter rings around them. Rohan slings an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “How about next time, we love you so much and so good, you can’t even walk straight?”

Shanaya eyes him, testing him, then rests her head on his chest. “I dare you to even try.”

Next time is about the end of the following week. They research and plan and prep and actually have it set that they are going to try for Friday night. Rohan is buzzing the entire day, and when others ask, blames it on the typical Friday excitement. Chills rush down his entire body when he comes home and, once again, arrives at the same time Abhi does. This time, he bursts out of his car and wraps an arm behind Abhi’s waist, too energetic to care who sees. Abhi smiles brightly down at him and presses his lips to the side of his head, not quite a kiss but enough for Rohan to sigh dreamily.

Rohan knows that it’s impossible to plan everything out in advance down to the very last detail. Life is unpredictable--that is what makes it worth it. But the last thing they were expecting to see is Shanaya leaning against the wall when they walk in, dressed in nothing but a lacy red bra and matching panties.

They freeze, and Rohan flashes back to last week, how he was caught completely off guard by Shanaya in black. In red, she is a vision, a dream, and while he is still caught off guard, he is not surprised. He should have suspected this was coming. He unwinds himself from Abhi and places his hands on his hips.

“Really?” He asks, shaking his head. “Again?”

She just smiles, her hips jutting out forward. “Life is no fun without surprises.” As if she read his mind. Rohan smiles back at her. Shanaya angles her head more towards Abhi and motions to him, giving a guys’ ‘sup nod. Abhi, like last time, has been motionless with wide eyes since he arrived. He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a firm breath through pursed lips. When he speaks, it’s clearly the first thing that crosses his mind.

“You look amazing.” A pause. “But I think all of that would look better on the floor.”

There’s a tense pause in the air as this cheesy pick-up line is processed, and then Shanaya furrows her eyebrow for a quick second and bursts out laughing. It spreads to Rohan, a little more subdued, but Abhi just looks between them, confused and a little embarrassed. Shanaya bends over, clapping once, and then stands back up with an arm around her stomach. When she finally calms down, she walks over to them, still smiling, and threads her fingers together behind Abhi’s neck.

“I love you,” she chuckles, shaking her head, still laughing a little. Abhi just looks at her.

“I love you too. But why--” Shanaya cuts him off with a firm kiss.

“Shh,” she says when she pulls back, only long enough to say this and then presses her lips back against his. It’s quick, she pulls back again, and then goes in for a deeper kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck fully and standing on her toes to press closer to him. Abhi hesitantly wraps his arms around her waist, and Rohan watches them for a moment. He notices how the fabric of her underwear disappears behind her into the crack of her ass and is immediately transfixed. When Abhi gains his confidence back, lifts Shanaya up by her thighs, and her legs circle his waist, he steps towards them and gently runs one hand over one cheek of her rear end, kissing her cheek and shoulder. His other hand rests on Abhi’s lower back. Carefully, Abhi lowers Shanaya down as they separate. They crowd around Rohan for a moment, just all being next to each other, and then they file upstairs.

There are periods where they are impatient, and clothes fly across the room. But there are periods where they believe there is no one else in the world, that time has stopped, the world has stopped spinning just for them, and they kiss slow, trace patterns over skin. And some of it is awkward and a little bit uncomfortable. Hair gets into mouths, people get overwhelmed being so crowded, people get accidentally elbowed, smacked, kneed. But they have learned to laugh about it, kiss the injuries and make jokes. This is not the end of the world. This is the world that they have built together.

Setting themselves up is the most awkward and stressful. They’ve set up pillows against the headboard so Abhi can lean back against it. Shanaya straddles him, her back to him, so Abhi will be inside of her from behind. Rohan is in front, facing Shanaya, kneeling in between both her and Abhi’s spread legs. He will be in this way. They will both be in at the same time. This is what they’ve agreed on. Shanaya leans back against Abhi’s chest, and it’s easy to read that she is getting more nervous as the moment gets closer. But she doesn’t back out. And both of her husbands will help her through it.

Abhi preps her the same way he would do Rohan--fingers first, slow, and lots of lube. Shanaya feels more comfortable facing Abhi for this, so she turns around, and Rohan comforts her from behind, stroking her back, brushing her hair out of her face, kissing her shoulders. Abhi is just as patient with her as he was the first time with Rohan, and Shanaya is just as open about when it hurts too much and when it’s okay for Abhi to move. Eventually, she finds the pleasure in it and finds a rhythm. Her head falls back against Rohan’s shoulder and her eyes close as she slowly rotates her hips around Abhi’s fingers. He wraps his arms around her waist. “I’ve got you,” he whispers. “We’ve got you.”

Abhi adds a second finger, and after a while, a third. She is thrusting against them, giving Abhi the perfect angle of her pink openness, waiting, practically begging to be touched. He watches in awe as Rohan’s hand comes down and his middle finger strokes over her wetness. Shanaya lets out a harsh noise and she grabs onto Rohan’s arm, first his bicep, and then lightly at his wrist, gently pushing his hand away. Abhi’s fingers slow inside of her as she swallows harshly, and both men watch her with concern.

“Too much too fast,” she says in one breath, sounding like one word as it comes out.

“But are you okay?” Abhi asks, sitting up, and as a result, curling his fingers. She tenses around him and subconsciously rides into it, letting out another small moan and biting down hard on her lip to stop it. When she calms down, she nods.

“I think I’m ready.” She’s still breathing hard, but it sounds sure, like she’s still fully here and aware, and Abhi carefully slides his fingers out. Shanaya turns again, with her back to Abhi, and both men put on condoms and more lubricant. Abhi leans against the headboard, and Shanaya leans against him, her back flush to his chest. He holds her hips as he lines himself up with her, and she breathes deeply. He kiss her cheek, the corner of her mouth. Rohan, above it all, kisses her temple. One of Shanaya’s hands snakes to Abhi’s forearm, the other rests on Rohan’s hip. She gives the tiniest of smiles, and they both press into her as everything around them disappears.

The air is thick with the hot breath of more people linked together in one room than usual. Rohan holds her waist, the sensation of being inside of her as delicious as it always is. For Shanaya, though, it’s overwhelming. They are so slow and careful with her, as if they make one wrong move and she will break. Shanaya is torn between complaining about being treated like a china doll, but if this is not good for her, if she cannot make this good for them, it will ruin her. So in the beginning, she lets them treat her like a delicate flower, and it works out in her favor. She is showered with affection, words and presses of lips against her skin, and she lets it wash over her, bouncing back and forth between the tightness of pain and the comfort of pleasure as they push deeper into her. Rohan occasionally runs fingers through her hair, strokes Abhi’s face. Every time, Abhi leans into his touches, and Rohan wants to pull them both close to him.

When they are as deep as they can go, Shanaya lifts a hand to Abhi’s cheek and pulls his head in towards her. He buries his face into her hair, the back of her neck, and her other hand comes up to Rohan. Her fingers toy with the hairs on the back of his neck, and she pulls him in close to her as well. He settles against her shoulder, face tucked into her jawline, and after breathing her in, carefully pulls out and slides back in.

A rhythm is hard to build between three people at once. But slowly, they find something, and Shanaya’s pain has evaporated, morphing into the most intense pleasure she has ever felt in her life. One of Abhi’s hands leaves Shanaya’s waist and settles on the fleshy part of Rohan’s ass, feeling it bounce as he thrusts. Both of Rohan’s arms come to circle Abhi’s waist as best he can, and Shanaya is sandwiched between them, holding onto hips, hair, flesh, the bedspread, anything she can to ground herself. But she is far from this earth, and it all builds up so quickly once again, but this time, she is able to give some kind of a warning before her orgasm overtakes her, even if forming coherent words is a struggle.

The feeling of two bodies at once is enough to send both men over the edge relatively quickly, and they pulse inside of her before collapsing into a heap of sweaty bodies. They all breathe heavily against each other. Shanaya has one arm wrapped around Rohan’s neck, head tucked onto his shoulder. She can feel both of them breathe wetly against her skin, Abhi’s nose still in her hair, and they are still inside her, full and solid, and it is over but it is still all so much, and she covers her mouth with her hand to try but fails to stop herself from suddenly bursting into tears.

Rohan separates from her immediately. “Shanaya?” he cries in disbelief, holding her face. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

She doesn’t respond, just continues to cry, still one hand pressed against her mouth to contain her sobs. Abhi is quiet behind her, tucking her hair back behind her ears and resting the side of his head against her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her waist. Rohan cradles her head against him, and she wraps her arms around him again, sobbing against his shoulder. They sway back and forth, shushing her, and she grips them tighter. “It will be okay,” they tell her, and she is not sad, they did nothing wrong, but she is physically unable to speak and the feeling is so frustrating she wants to tear herself out of her own body.

Eventually, she gives into the rocking motions and lets herself sway with them. She quiets. Her face is wet, but no one moves, no one speaks, and she is, in a sense, grateful for this. She sniffs once and slowly lets her arms down, and the men unwind themselves from her. They both wipe at her face, and she laughs wetly, head angled down, brushing her hair away in small motions.

“I’d heard that that could happen,” she says quietly after a bit, still refusing to look up. “Women having orgasms so intense and powerful that coming down from it is such a release that they just _cry_.” She shakes her head. “I didn’t think it was real.”

“So you’re okay?” Rohan says carefully, slowly. “We didn’t hurt you?”

She finally looks up, and she wants to cry again, he looks so scared, and so does Abhi, and it fractures her. She hugs Rohan again first, tight, and then leans back at an awkward angle to wrap an arm around Abhi’s neck and pulls him in. Abhi’s cheek collides with her bare chest, and they laugh, and the heavy air becomes light again.

“No,” she says strongly against Abhi’s hair. “No, that was, by far, the best thing we have ever done, and it just needs to become a weekly thing, I’ll campaign for it.”

“Well, you have my vote,” Rohan responds.

“Winner by a landslide!” Abhi announces in a mocking newscaster voice, and they double over again.

* * *

It is a sticky, rainy summer day when Rohan is blindsided by the calendar, of all things. It’s a month calendar, and August 26 is circled with a red heart. The date will come in a week, but the significance eats away at Rohan’s chest.

Abhi and Shanaya’s wedding anniversary. He hates himself for forgetting.

And he hates himself for dreading it as the day gets closer, and then feels guilty for hating himself, and the cycle becomes horribly vicious. They are good, they are solid, they are strong, but he can feel himself closing off, and he can feel Abhi and Shanaya noticing. There is a day when Shanaya comes behind the chair in which he sits in and wraps her arms around him and tucks her head over his shoulder.

“We don’t have to do anything,” she mumbles against the cloth. “Or you can come with us.”

Rohan chuckles. As much as he doesn’t want to be left behind, he knows he can’t. He takes one of Shanaya’s hands and kisses the back of it.

“No,” he decides. “It’s your day. I shouldn’t force myself in.”

“You wouldn’t be forcing your way into anything,” she promises, standing up a little bit. He kisses her quickly, and this is the end of it for now. But when Abhi comes home, he brings it up to Rohan when they are sitting at the table alone.

“It’s not force if you’re being invited,” Abhi says quietly, playing with Rohan’s sleeve. Rohan sighs.

“Abhi…”

“You deserve to celebrate with us. You should be there with us.”

“I wasn’t there then,” Rohan replies sadly.

“But you’re here now,” Abhi tries again, looking at him hard and taking his hand firmly. Rohan sighs again.

“I’m only here because of that day.”

“Which is why you should come with us!”

Rohan shakes his head. “This was a decision you two made on your own. Without me. Children don’t celebrate their parents’ anniversaries with them. And I’m not legally married to either of you.” He shakes his head again. “It just wouldn’t feel right.”

Abhi sighs, and it seems like he finally understands. He kisses Rohan’s hand. “We’ll make it up to you. And we will come right back home to you. Okay?”

Rohan chuckles. “Okay.”

They are lucky the date falls on a weekend so Abhi doesn’t have to take time off from work. So they spend the entire day out, but bid Rohan a fond goodbye before they leave. They send Rohan one or two photos throughout the day, but otherwise he doesn’t hear from them, and he doesn’t bother them much. So Rohan keeps to himself most of the day. He is on his phone frequently, takes a nap, even winds up masturbating a little bit. He eats alone--Abhi and Shanaya made nice dinner plans as well. Rohan also writes a lot--lyrics about love, loneliness, sex, happiness, fulfillment. They are ideas that flow freely in the quiet, uninterrupted space. He plays around with melodies on his guitar, scratching more things down and recording grainy voice demos on his phone. He has a pretty solid foundation on one song in particular and is having a solo jam session, so engrossed in his own music that he doesn’t hear the door unlock, doesn’t even realize he is not alone anymore until thin arms wrap around him from behind and long hair tickles his face, causing the music to break off unevenly.

“You finally gonna give us a sneak peek or what?” Shanaya teases, her lips firm against his skin as she grins and kisses his cheek. He laughs, ducking out of her embrace, and Abhi leans forward and quickly kisses the top of Rohan’s head before he can protest.

“How was your day?” he asks. Rohan chuckles darkly.

“Probably insanely boring compared to yours.”

Abhi shakes his head. “It was fine.”

“Are you kidding?” Shanaya says, looking at Abhi in disbelief. “We saw a movie, we walked around the park, we got dinner, ice cream, we danced…” She is slowly walking around the table as she speaks, and she plops into the chair across from Rohan, sighing dreamily. She looks off into space, playing with her ring absentmindedly, and then looks at Rohan. “We wish you could have been there.”

Rohan sighs. “It sounds nice. Like you had a good time.” And it does. There is no drip of jealousy, of resentment in his voice, none of that holds onto his heart. He lifts the guitar off of his lap and leans it back against the wall. “Do you do gifts or anything like that?”

“Oh, yeah!” Shanaya says excitedly. “Abhi got me these.” She holds out her arm, which is covered in shiny silver bracelets that jingle as she moves. Rohan holds her wrist as he rotates it to get a better look. They are very sparkly. Abhi did well.

“I got him some nice pens for work.”

“Not just any nice pens,” Abhi pipes up, sliding into the chair at the end of the table. He leans forward towards Rohan, newfound excitement in his eyes. “Montblanc fountain pens.” He emphasizes each word. “14-karat gold tip, refillable ink cartridge, AND she got it engraved AND a leather case for them.” He leans back forcefully, as if simply thinking about it exhausts him. “I’d always wanted one, but they were way too expensive and frivolous for me to ever seriously consider buying one.”

“I’m gonna pretend I understand anything you just said to me,” Rohan responds. Abhi laughs once.

“Thank you.”

“Aaand…” Shanaya adds, trailing off. She looks at Abhi, who smiles gently but starts to tense up. Shanaya turns back to Rohan. “We got you something.”

Rohan perks up, sits up straighter. “Me? But it’s not my anniversary.”

“Oh, shut up about whose anniversary it is versus whose it isn’t.” Rohan’s eyes narrow. “Just…” Shanaya takes a breath to steady herself. “Just close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

Rohan turns towards Abhi. His husband has completely tensed and is trying to not make it so obvious. He is holding onto his own hands, which rests on the table, and looks at Rohan with unreadable eyes. But he nods, and Rohan trusts them both, so he obeys.

There is shuffling, and Shanaya is still making small noises of excitement as they do whatever it is their doing. The anticipation builds as Rohan can sense a body getting closer to him, and he can feel Abhi’s nimble fingers gently cup his hands and place something into them.

It’s a box, no bigger than Rohan’s palm. The bottom is flat, but as Rohan gently wraps his fingers around it, he feels the curved edges and the velvet material.

His heart leaps up into his throat.

“You can open your eyes,” Shanaya says softly, and Rohan does. Shanaya has her head perched onto her hand, fighting the way her lips want to curve up into a smile. Abhi now seems terrified, still playing with his own fingers, watching Rohan expectantly.

The box is small, with curved edges, made of blue velvet. There are only so many things that could fit into something this tiny. Rohan holds it carefully, as if it holds the secrets of the universe. As if whatever is in this box will change the trajectory of his entire life.

“Open it,” Shanaya adds just as soft, leaning slightly more forward. Rohan doesn’t, not right away, letting the anticipation hang in the air for a little bit longer. He holds his breath as, ever so slowly, he pries the box open.

It is a ring, just as Rohan suspected, worried, feared, hoped. It’s a simple band--silver, with one thin stripe of gold going through the middle and wrapping around the circumference. The artificial overhead light reflects off the metal, and it’s the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

“Take it out,” Shanaya continues. “There’s something on the inside.”

Rohan does not, cannot acknowledge her. His breath is shaky, hands unsteady as he gently removes it and holds it carefully between his fingers. He rotates it, and sure enough, there is a message engraved on the inside of the band.

_Forever Yours, A + S_

Rohan feels blinded, suffocated, liberated, all at once. He finally looks up, and neither Shanaya nor Abhi have changed their expressions much. Shanaya folds her lips into her mouth as she waits, and Abhi is visibly forcing himself to breathe evenly.

“You can’t be serious,” are the first words out of Rohan’s mouth. Emotion weighs heavily in his voice, and all of it crashes over him instantly and now he wants to cry. “Why…” He looks at the ring again, and the sight goes blurry. Disbelief, relief, love, joy, things he cannot explain, things he cannot put into words fill him, surround him, and he is dizzy with feeling so much. A hand on his wrist steadies him, and he blinks, clearing his vision as he looks up again. Shanaya.

“Because you are just as much my husband as Abhi is,” she says. “Because a date on a calendar and a piece of paper with our names on it does not mean I love him more than you.”

“Because,” Abhi adds, finding his voice. He carefully pulls the ring out of Rohan’s grasp. “You deserve to be reminded every day that you are valued, you are adored, you are wanted.” He gently takes Rohan’s hand and slowly slips the ring onto his finger. It’s shockingly cool against Rohan’s skin, and it fits perfectly. “Because you should have tangible evidence of how much you are loved.” His hand folds over Rohan’s, and he is held tight by both of Abhi’s hands, and Abhi finally looks at him. “Because the past doesn’t matter. Because what does matter is today, and today, you are here, and we are together, and we are promising you that from this moment forward, we will never stop protecting you, believing in you, being there for you. Loving you. Forever.”

“And always,” Shanaya adds with the tiniest of laughs, and Rohan slowly bends forward, his head lightly resting on top of where his and Abhi’s hands are still linked together. His body trembles as everything he’s feeling flows out of him, silent shakes until Shanaya gently strokes the back of his head, and then the sobs rip from his body. They don’t question it, but Rohan can sense their presence come closer to him, resting their heads on the table with him, whispering things to him. Shanaya continues to stroke the back of his head, running her fingers through his hair, and Abhi runs his thumb over the back of Rohan’s hand, as much as he can reach where he is trapped. It’s all too much at once, but it’s a catharsis, and there is still this horrible, nagging voice deep in the back of his head that continues to whisper that he does not deserve this, that he is not worthy of them, but finally, _finally_ , there are other voices that are louder, that scream at him that he is wonderful and perfect, and he is loved by two wonderful, perfect people, and he is worthy and deserving and enough, and it’s these voices that drown the others out, and Rohan feels free, and despite how much his body might not show it, he is the happiest he has ever been in his entire life.

His body grows heavy as his emotions are expelled, but his heart is light, and slowly, he sits up. The pair unwind themselves from him, and Abhi lets go of his hands. Rohan fixes his hair, wipes his face, and the cold silver surprises him. He shutters and pulls his hands away, finally getting a good look at the ring on his finger, and it really is so perfect and beautiful and not too tight and glows against his skin. He flips his hand over and back, laughing softly at the new weight around his finger, at the absurdity of it, presses the band against his finger, and yes, he can feel the engraving against his skin, wants those words etched onto his own skin for the entire world to see.

He stands, walks around the table, and kisses Abhi first, who, despite the happiness now radiating from Rohan’s entire being, still looks so scared that he made a colossal mistake. Rohan tips his husband’s head all the way back, one hand holding the top of his head, the other his jaw, and Abhi slowly spins around and holds Rohan’s hips as the kiss deepens. Slowly, their lips separate, and Rohan breathes out through his nose as he smiles down at him. Finally, Abhi smiles back at him, fully bright, and Rohan carefully unwinds them and heads for Shanaya. His wife welcomes him with open arms, smiling as she wraps her arms around his neck and shoulders, carding her fingers through his hair once again and pulling him down as close as she can. He has to bend more to reach her, and he is careful as he gently holds her chin, but kisses her with love and passion all the same. He strokes her face when they separate, and they simply gaze at each other, her hands falling to his waist.

“Thank you,” he whispers. He turns to Abhi, and as if that was his cue, Abhi scoots his chair over to them, and Rohan laughs, reaching out for him. He circles one arm around Abhi’s neck, fingers buried into his hair, face pressed against the top of his head. Abhi leans over and wraps his arms around Rohan’s waist.

“Thank you,” Rohan repeats, muffled, a little more tearful. “I love you both so much.” He presses his lips to Abhi’s head, and Abhi lightly rests his head against Rohan’s chest. The whole thing gets uncomfortable fast, and they all separate. Rohan wipes his face again and breathes deeply as he sits back down.

“So,” he says, forcing cheeriness and lightness back into the room. “Did you have any other plans tonight?”

Abhi’s lips twist in thought. “I don’t think so…

“Oh,” Rohan replies, casual. “I just figured you two would want to have sex or something.”

He didn’t catch it when Shanaya had laid a hand over Abhi’s wrist, clearly wanting something. But now that the idea of sex had been brought up by name, it’s obvious that’s what Shanaya wants. She grins at Rohan, looking at him through her eyelashes, and Abhi blushes.

“Well, now that you mention it…” she teases. She leans forward on her elbows towards him, her breasts pressed together in between her arms. Rohan laughs and leans back.

“You _two_ ,” he emphasizes. “ _Just_ you two.”

“What?!” Shanaya questions, sitting back down, offended.

“It’s still your anniversary…” Rohan trails off, and Shanaya throws her hands up in anger.

“After all of that, you’re still on this?!” she yells.

“I just thought you’d want to have a nice anniversary night too!” Rohan shouts back, defensive.

“Yes, with you too!”

“Hey, hey, HEY!” Abhi shouts over them, and everyone falls silent, the tense quiet hanging heavy in the air. “No arguing, no negativity tonight.” They both duck their heads slightly, staring at the edges of the table, ashamed.

“Although…” Abhi adds. He carefully threads his fingers through Shanaya’s, and she looks up at him. “He’s not wrong,” he adds with a wink, and she blushes, fluffing her hair, her gaze turning deeper, sexier.

Rohan grins at the both of them and stands, pushing the chair out so it squeaks against the floor, and grabs his guitar from where it still leans against the wall. “Have fun, you two.” He can hear them chuckle as he leaves the room.

He can also hear their heavy breathing as they stumble their way upstairs, their sounds, the creak of the bed as they love each other viciously, desperately, and vocally. Rohan keeps his own body under control, but he comes up with ideas for lyrics that are more explicit, have more double meanings, and he’s more hesitant about bringing these ideas to his team.

He is looking up metaphors and terminology online when he hears soft footsteps down the stairs. Shanaya floats in, radiant in a deep magenta silk robe, hair fluffed and messy from sex. She lightly holds the robe around her body, just barely covering herself, and she leans against the wall, smiling at him dreamily.

“Hi,” Rohan chuckles, his eyes wide as he takes in her image. She smiles, bashful.

“Hi,” she replies. Her arms lightly wrap around her own waist, leaning on her shoulder blades against the edge of the wall. All of her weight rests on one foot, the toes of her other foot pointed on the floor.

“Am I being summoned?” Rohan jokes, teasing. He feels the floor fall out from under him when Shanaya bites her lip and nods. His surprise must be evident on his face--he feels his own jaw go slack, and Shanaya laughs softly, her shoulders shaking.

“We want you to join us,” she says breathy, airy, and it was not intended to be sexy but Rohan feels his pants start to stir. Shanaya stands up a little straight. “It was an executive, mutual decision,” she adds in a deep business voice, and Rohan laughs openly. When Rohan doesn’t move initially, Shanaya grins at him, beckoning him forward with a single finger. He lets the motion control him, setting his things down and standing, moving towards her, gripping her wrist when he is less than a foot in front of her. Her smile turns devious as she twists out of his grasp and takes his hand for real, her thumb gliding over the two metals of his ring.

In the exchange, her other arm had dropped, letting her robe fall open just so, exposing just enough that Rohan’s mouth waters at the sight. Her stomach, her pussy, the dip between her breasts. Rohan is transfixed. He lets himself be pulled, lets her lead him up the stairs in a daze. They are on the second floor landing, they are just past the bedroom door when Rohan stops. Their arms stretch a little as Shanaya continues to walk forward, but she is pulled, snapped back towards him, and turns around, stumbling a little, but she leans into him.

“Rohan, please,” she sighs, and Rohan is quick to quiet the voice in his head telling him she is annoyed. She is not. She is sad, worried. “Not this again.”

“It’s not that,” Rohan responds too quickly, and Shanaya sees right through it.

“It is,” she says gently, taking another step towards him. He doesn’t look at her, focuses on the edge of her robe that begins to slip off her shoulder. He can see out of the corner of his eye an expression of hurt cross her face. “Are we not enough for you?” It’s quiet, pained, and Rohan’s head snaps up.

“You are,” he says firmly, holding her face. “You are enough, and so much more. You are everything. The thing is, I’m just starting to believe that I’m good enough for the two of you.”

“Because you are,” she says hopefully, lightly holding onto one of his wrists. “That’s why we gave you this.”

“I know,” he sighs, pausing for a moment. “But there is still that tiny, horrible little voice in the smallest corner of my brain that still believes that I’m not good enough, I’m not worthy of being loved by you or by anyone, that you can’t love me as much as you love each other, you can’t, and you never will.”

“Rohan…” Shanaya sounds like she wants to cry.

“I know none of that is true, I know that, but that voice is there, and it will always be there, and no amount of love you can ever show me will make it go away. You can’t cure me. You can’t fix me.”

Shanaya breathes in and out once. She gently cups Rohan’s cheeks, her thumbs brushing feather light just underneath his eyes.

“You are not perfect, but you are not broken. And even if you are so convinced that you are broken, then fine, you are. But we will not try to fix you. We’ll just...help you carry all of your pieces.” She takes his ringed hand. “This is not a bandage. It’s a part of you.” She presses her hands together, his tight in between. The band presses into his skin. “We’re a part of you.”

A part of him. His fingers twitch, and he can feel the indentation of the engraving against his skin, as if it’s marking him, and the phrase that’s written there, Shanaya’s spoken words, all of it sinks into the deepest parts of his heart. He’s always considered himself a full person, never believed in being half of a couple, never believed you could be completed when you fell in love, and that you weren’t complete if you were not. But these words scratched onto metal, these initials of the people that he loves, are etched into him, and he is a whole person who is a part of something bigger, something magical, something wonderful. Something as close to perfect as you can get.

He gently pries his hand free and runs it through her hair, sliding slowly, brushing across her face. She shivers at the cold touch of his ring on her skin, and he guides her to him, kissing her deeply, and she succumbs to him. Her head tilts back as both of his hands thread through her hair, and her hands settle high on his waist, against his ribs. Her robe has slipped from her shoulders, and Rohan slides his ringed hand over the exposed skin, and she shudders repeatedly at the chill of it, pressing herself closer to him, firm against him. And then, just as their embrace becomes passionate, she releases her arms and lets the robe fall from her, dropping to the floor. She presses back against him, and he can feel her curves through his clothes, the heat radiating from her body, and he’s struck with a thought, and breaks the kiss to check, and yes, his wife is now standing stark naked in front of him.

He lets his eyes graze her body slowly, taking her in, and when they return to meet hers, they both suddenly burst into uncontrollable giggles. She grabs his shirt collar and pulls him back in again forcefully, kissing him hard. She stumbles backwards, towards the bedroom, and he follows her, holding onto her waist. She yanks his shirt over his head, tossing it aside, and moves frantically, holding his jaw, tugging his hair, touching his chest, and finally, undoing his belt buckle. But her knees hit the edge of the bed, without even realizing they’d crossed the doorway, and she stumbles back. Rohan falls on the bed with her but braces himself to keep from collapsing on top of her, and they are still laughing as they scurry up towards the pillows and kiss feverishly. As they slow and drink each other in, another warm, naked body presses against Rohan’s back. He gasps against Shanaya’s mouth as Abhi slides his hands along Rohan’s sides and kisses the back of his neck. Rohan leans up a little bit into it, a hand sliding back into Abhi’s hair, and Abhi surrounds Rohan, firm kisses against the curve of his neck and shoulder. His semi-hard cock presses against the back of Rohan’s leg, and Shanaya’s hands are still all over him, and he is enveloped between them, and it is so much and never enough. When he pushes up further to lean more into Abhi’s chest, Shanaya is now too far from him, and it’s agonizing. Abhi holds him close, arms locked around his waist, and Rohan presses his nose against the side of Abhi’s face, breathing hard.

“Tell me how you feel about me,” he says suddenly. A few more harsh breaths are released as all other sounds disappear from the room. “Tell me you love me.”

Abhi pauses, and then with a small smile, turns his head so he is nose to nose with Rohan, foreheads pressed together. His pointer finger traces the outline of Rohan’s face. His words are hushed, whispered, for their ears only.

“My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

It’s ridiculously poetic, and it sounds like it was quoted from some piece of literature that Rohan can’t think of right now. He is too dizzy with love, his heart bouncing around in his chest, leaping into his throat, about to burst out of his body. He kisses Abhi achingly sweet, hands resting on Abhi’s arms where they are still tight around him. Abhi’s hands slide over Rohan’s chest, across his stomach, and to the waistband of his jeans. They sway gently from side to side as Abhi slowly undoes the button and unzips him. His hands are firm and warm as they slide under the fabric, pushing the clothing down, taking Rohan’s underwear with it. Rohan kneels up, Abhi’s fingers spread wide over his thighs, and Rohan shakes his legs, kicking the denim off and away. Abhi’s hands return to his hips, and his cock is harder now, poking and throbbing against the cheek of Rohan’s now bare ass. Rohan can’t help but chuckle, breath fanning over Abhi’s cheek where his face is still pressed. He feels Abhi’s lips curve up, and Shanaya sits up underneath him, her legs barricading the two men. Her hands slide up Rohan’s stomach and chest, her lips pressing against his sternum. Rohan threads his fingers through her hair and sucks in a sharp breath. She tilts her head up towards up, and her eyes are so wide as she looks at him, and he needs her, he has to have her, he is so desperately in love with her.

He growls, lips curling up into a smirk, and she shrieks as he pounces on her again, kissing across her face and neck. Abhi laughs from behind him and drapes himself back over Rohan, kissing his neck and shoulders, a hand holding his waist, and Rohan needs him, has to have him, is so desperately in love with him. Abhi keeps his other hand loose in Shanaya’s hair, and her fingers scratch against Abhi’s arm. They are smooth and rhythmic as they all love each other so tenderly, so deeply, and Rohan is completely engulfed in them, close, secure, warm, loved, and that is exactly how he wants it to be, this is the way he knows it will always be.

He smiles, teeth bared against skin. Maybe he will write his own headline, he thinks. “Rohan Nanda Is Finally Happy.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was gonna do a separate Rohan/Abhi fic but that never went anywhere so I did this instead. I tried to make the sex scenes between Rohan/Shanaya and Rohan/Abhi as even as I could and I hope I did it justice that he loves them both just the same.
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos, anything about what you thought, whether you loved it or hated it. I feel like the Bollywood “fandom” is very small, so any feedback would be appreciated. Thanks for making it all the way to the end. This turned out longer than I expected and came to 71 pages on Google Docs, which feels like a lot.
> 
> Love you, love you, love you.


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